


Angels and Whiskey

by nikitabaggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Angels, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Demons, F/M, Friendship/Love, M/M, Protective Siblings, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-01 15:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6525568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikitabaggins/pseuds/nikitabaggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean find out they have a sister. What will happen when they find her? And when she becomes friends with a certain whiskey eyed Archangel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Sister

"A sister!? What the hell do you mean we have a sister!?" Dean glared at Bobby, who at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"Your dad swore me to secrecy."

"You don't think at some point in between him dying, and the apocalypse, and everything else – that didn't become invalid?" Sam frowned. Bobby swiped his cap from his head and took a swig of beer.

"Well obviously it's sprung to mind once or twice but your dad didn't want her mixed up in all of this you eejits!" Dean exhaled.

"Where exactly does she live?" Bobby cleared his throat and looked at them both.

"You're not going to like it…"

"Bobby!" Dean barked, his green eyes flashing. The older man sighed in defeat.

"Scotland. She lives in Scotland. A little town called Annan. As far as I know she doesn't know anything about John, or you pair, or this life at all. I think your dad wanted it that way. She'll be 21 now. Her name is Y/N"

"The Angels have found out about her. She's in danger. Finding her first is of the greatest importance." Cas reiterated the facts they already knew in his wonderfully direct way. Dean rubbed his brow.

"So, we have a 21 year old Scottish sister who knows nothing about this life and has the halo brigade on her ass?"

"Basically, yeah." Sam plugged away at his laptop. "Here, look at this." He spun the laptop around to reveal a map of Scotland. The tiny dot at the bottom showed Annan. Without another word Cas placed his fingers on their foreheads.

"Cas no!" Dean cried. But it was too late.

Bobby sighed as he glared around his now empty kitchen.

"Bloody eejits" he murmured.

Dean and Sam opened their eyes. They were standing in a field. Dean threw his hands up in the air and cried out in frustration.

"Great job Cas. We're in the middle of freaking nowhere. Is this even Scotland!?" Castiel frowned and looked around him. He raised a hand and pointed.

"The town is that way." Dean rolled his eyes and began to march in that direction with a reluctant Castiel and Sam following.

The boys walked up and down the highstreet.

"Is this it?" Dean asked spreading his arms and turning around. "The only things here are bars and take aways."

"From what I could tell its only a small town, and everyone knows how much the Scots like to drink. It would have been handy if Bobby could have given us an address." He glared at Castiel.

"I'll try giving him a call." Dean held the phone to his ear before groaning in frustration. "Great. Just great. There's no reception." Sam raised his eyebrows and sighed heavily. "People are going to think we're just tourists looking for our ancestors."

"You know, Campbell is a Scottish name, we probably do have ancestors from Scotland." Dean glared at his brother until Sam pouted and looked at the ground.

"Let's just go in here and ask. Small town, someone's bound to know her." Sam gestured to the bar they were standing beside. They walked in to the dimly lit room and took in their surroundings.

"Hey, cute bar tender." Dean grinned looking at the girl standing staring at them. "Right, let me do the talking, hopefully I'll get a number and I can go international." Sam sighed and gave his brother a pointed look. Castiel had wandered over to the bar and ordered a drink.

Dean stormed out of the bar 5 minutes later, minus a number.

"What is the problem with Scottish girls?" He exclaimed.

"What, just because one girl didn't fall to your feet, there's something wrong with all Scottish girls?" Sam laughed. Dean glared at him. "At least she knows Y/K and we're going to meet her tomorrow." Castiel walked out and glanced around him with a bemused expression. "And since when do you drink Scotch!?" Dean rounded on the angel. Cas gazed at him with his bright blue eyes.

"This is Scotland Dean, the place where Whiskey is famous. And Scotland is Gods country." Dean frowned.

"What? Gods country?" Castiel nodded.

"Of course. God made Scotland and he sat back and smiled. It's full of fine men and women not to mention the beautiful scenery." Dean laughed.

"Yeah right Cassy, if anywhere is Gods country it's America." The angel frowned and shook his head.

"No that is not right." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Lets just go and find somewhere cheap to sleep."


	2. Y/N

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is from the Readers pov, she's from Scotland just to mix it up - any questions feel free to ask. Love xx

Thursdays are always the same for me. My alarm explodes in a mind numbing shriek at 0900. I usually groan and roll over, hitting the snooze button without opening an eyelid. I reluctantly get out of my warm haven and go to the kitchen to make coffee. And no. I don't look like those cute poster girls you see on adverts wearing tight tops and frilly thongs. I'm not cute. I don't look good in the mornings. But here's the secret. Nobody does. Looking good in the mornings is a myth.

I take my cup of steaming goodness and fold onto the couch, open my phone and check my texts. I don't get signal in my room. Then I go through the routine of checking Facebook, my emails, Tumblr and Instagram. I scroll down the pointless newsfeeds in a zombie like state before eventually throwing it down beside me and taking a sip of my coffee. Strong, three sugars, and milk if I have any.

After I drain my coffee I trudge to the shower and try to wake up. Within the next hour I am walking out of the door to my car. Constrained by the 21st century's expectations my hair is straightened and my makeup is done to perfection. A "natural look". As if people are "naturally" born with flawless skin, eyeliner and mascara. Whatever brings the money in. I unlock my car and collapse into it. The piece of shit is nearly 20 years old. It's held together with duct tape and sheer will. Now that would be okay if it was a nice car. But a Fiat Punto is not a nice car. The radio doesn't work, it doesn't have a CD player, and the windows have to be wound up. But it's mine. Turning the key and it judders to life. I fall into the natural rhythm of driving and pull out onto the street.

I used to think pubs and bars were cool places before I was 18. Hell, for a while, even after I turned 18 I thought they were cool. But then I realised they were just places for sad lonely people to go because they had nowhere else. Working in the pub isn't exactly "Coyote Ugly". It's not even "The Vic" from "Eastenders". It's hours of sheer boredom and frequent cunts. I collect the keys from the owner and walk across the street to the pub. It's raining. Not exactly a huge surprise. It's December in Scotland after all. Those Christmas cards you see with the majestic Scottish mountains covered in snow? Bullshit. Sure in the Highlands and on good days you get snow. But 90% of the time its rain. Heavy, steady, and often horizontal rain. I unlock the staff entrance as quickly as possible and slam the door behind me.

"Fuck that." I breathe in the smell of the pub. I had lots of work to do in the next 15 minutes. We open at 11am and guaranteed some punter would be wanting a pint at dead on 11. Possibly George, or Doug, or Jock. It was a toss up really. But I would see all of them within the next hour. I switch on the lights and the machines. Head to the cellar for ice and fill up the water jug. Give the tables a wipe before throwing down some beer mats. "The Stag" was not a glamorous pub. Wood floors that matched the tables, chairs, and walls. It's sparsely decorated with the odd trophy and newspaper cutting from over the years. And of course a Stags head. It used to be a real one but that got stolen. So we have a fake Stag's head mounted on the wall. The bar is a solid thing, its surface now years of beer rings, blood and spit. Amongst other things. The glasses line up in uniformed rows like soldiers. The optics hang above the bar each full of promises to each punter. The bottles lined up behind the bar offered each customer anything they wanted. To forgive, to forget, to release an anger, to cry – I'd seen it all. But mostly people come here to talk to someone else. Anyone else. Unfortunately that's usually the bartender.

I switch on the coffee machine and feed to quid into the Dukebox. As "Rod Stewart" started blaring I head into the kitchen to retrieve my cup. The coffee is foul; it tastes like utter shite. I take the steaming cup out to the beer garden and light up a cigarette. As I suck on the orange tip I glare out at the falling rain. I breathe out and my breath mingles in the cool air. Standing there, as I have for hundreds of Thursday mornings, I think the same thing I have a hundred times.

"Fucking Pathetic." I say to myself. 21 years old and here I am. Working as a Barmaid in a shitty bar in a shitty town. The same shitty town I was raised in. If I'm not careful I'll never escape and end up dying here. The thought clung like icicles in my chest. I will get out. Soon. I flick my cigarette in the general direction of the ash tray. Not that it matters; no one cares. I walk back inside and unlock the front door at 1100 hours sharp. By 1101 I was standing behind the bar and the door opens.

"Hello my wee darlin!" I grin to myself and pick up the glass I needed.

"Hello Jock, what's the fettle the day? Usual?" But I was already pouring his Tenants. He sits down with a huff and begins telling me everything he feels I should know. That's the amazing thing about Bar Tenders. We perfect the art of looking like we give a shit. Over the next two hours I have a steady stream of customers float in and out. Some spoke to me, some spoke to each other, some just drank their pints and read the paper. As long as they paid me and were civil I didn't care. About 1300 hours I get a slow period where people get their lunch. I use the time to tidy, have another cup of swill, and smoke another cigarette.

When I return I start putting away glasses. I hum along with the music and busy myself. The door opens and I look up to see three strangers walk in. This crappy little town in West Scotland isn't exactly tourism central. Strangers were rare but not unheard of. Strangers drinking in this shitty bar in this shitty town in the middle of the day was never something I'd encountered before. I raised my eyebrows slightly and watched them. They took their time walking to the bar, taking in their surroundings with disinterest. They huddled together close to the door talking. They looked like a strange bunch. There was a very tall man with long brown hair who's eyebrows drew together as he listened to the shorter man. Wearing a leather jacket he was conventionally attractive. I decided he was the leader of the little group. Probably the cocky one with cheesy one liners. The third man looked out of place here. Wearing a suit with a loosened tie and a trench coat he stared at me with startling blue eyes. Nobody around here wore a suit unless there was a funeral. He looked like a businessman from London. He approached the bar and stood looking at the huge array of alcohol behind me. I lean against the Guinness tap with the dishcloth still in my hand.

"What can I get you?"

"Whiskey. Malt. Ice…Please" He added as an afterthought. I felt my eyebrow quirk slightly on its own accord but I kept my attitude in check. An American here was weird. At least he said please. I turn to pour him his drink, watching him in the mirror. His voice was surprisingly deep, raspy almost. I tip Glenfiddich into the tumbler, being overly generous with the tipple. Two drops of ice follow and I slide the drink in front of him. The other two had approached and stared at me.

"Two pound." I murmur. He puts the money on the bar and I take it without a word.  
"What brings you here then?" I ask curiously, my voice sounding strange in my ears. I'm watching them in the mirror again. Their eyes all meet mine in the reflection.

The one with the leather jacket cleared his throat.

"We're looking for someone." I raised my eyebrows and turned to face them. Great, another group of Americans looking for their descendants in Scotland.

"It's a family matter." The tall one interjected. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Who are you looking for?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter.

"Y/N" I felt my jaw tighten and my patience end.

"Firstly, round here, we don't take kindly to liars." They shared a confused glance and looked back at me.

"We're not lying." The tall one stared at me with puppy eyes and I almost felt myself calm down. Almost.

"Everyone knows that Y/N hasn't had any family since her mother died five years ago." The man with the trench coat stood up.

"It's a matter of great import." I chewed my lip, a habit I picked up a few years ago.

"Fine, I'll speak to her. Meet her at the café across the street –" I pointed to the Royal Café out the window. "- At 11am tomorrow morning." The one in the leather jacket piped up again.

"Look sweetheart, we've come a long way for this, I don't really fancy hanging around for too long. Like Cassy said, It's important." I narrowed my eyes.

"Firstly, I'm not your sweetheart, secondly, if you've came all this way you wont mind waiting a bit longer. Leave. Now. Thankyou." Leather jacket glared at me and I swear he pouted a little before storming out. The other two followed.

I pull out my phone and text my best friend.

U free tonight hun? Xxx

A second or two later she replied.

Yeah sure! U okay? Pizza for tea? Xxx

Pizza sounds amazing. I'm good, tell u about it later. See you about 7? Xxx

7 sounds good. See you then :) xxx

The rest of my shift passes without incident, but I still feel freaked out by home time. Marco takes over from me at 1800 and I leave the bar.

Stepping out into the icy wind and pouring rain I gasp and pull my jacket tighter. I run to my car and burst in. Turning the heaters full blast I rub my hands together furiously in an effort to get warm. It doesn't really work. After an age the blowers start filtering through luke warm air. Sighing I pull on my seat belt and switch on the headlights. The scream that tore from my throat and the long list of expletives that left my lips filled the car as I jammed the gear into first and drove my car out of the car park. It had been a weird and stressful day. I knew every back lane and road to her house. I didn't pause to think, I just drove, breaking every speed limit there was.

"What a load of freaks!" Katy shrieked. We were on her couch with wine in our hands and pizza on our laps.

"I know!" I took a large mouthful of wine as I recounted the days events to her. Katie Small had been my best friend for years. If soul mates existed she was mine. We complimented each other. She was the healing sort, who would listen and make you tea. I was more of the fighter, who would jump to defend and drank strong coffee. Of course Katie also has a wild side that I can't compete with. Sex, drugs and some hard-core goth metal lay hidden beneath her fluffy exterior. An enourmous collection of books, fairy lights and socks waited for me at home. But we did match each other well, if not always. At just under 6" tall it's hard not to notice her. Curly hair and sky blue eyes she has a subtle confidence and a kindness that draws people to her.

"Are you going to go to the Police?" she asks. I shake my head,

"And tell them what? Some guys came into the bar, asking around after me claiming to be family?" She sniggers.

"Well when you sum it up like that it's quite funny." I grab a pillow and throw it at her.

"Don't think about it, just drink, and eat, and try not to fight with Chrissy." Chrissy is her fiance. They live together in the next town over. Chrissy and I don't exactly get along. Opinionated and stubborn don't make for fantastic get-a-long characteristics.

"Where is dearest Chrissy anyway?" I ask.

"He went for a run." I grimace and shove more pizza into my face.

"Only you would fall in love with a health freak." I mumble through the cheesy dough. Katie snorts. Not exactly a lover of exercise herself they were a strange pair. He was worryingly thin and Katie wasn't a small girl. But they were crazy in love. And that's what mattered. I was just glad she had someone to look after her when I wasn't there. That night we stayed up late eating and watching movies. I fell asleep on the couch about 0200 and woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee.

"Morning babe." Katie smiled as she handed my the cup. I mumble my thanks and stretch. We have breakfast together and share a cigarette. I get ready at hers (a true testament of how often I'm there). I have one more cup of coffee before leaving the house and walking towards my car.

I head home and change before zipping out the door again. I make the Café at 11 sharp. Breezing through the door I wave hello to Allie the manager. I spotted the three men sitting in the corner. Taking a deep breath I walked up to them. Three (very) good looking faces turned to me in confusion.

"You want to talk to Y/K? Well it's nice to meet you all – I'm Y/N."


	3. Are you with us?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean meet their sister, will she believe their mad tales? Love xx

"You're Y/N?" the blonde glared up at you. He watched as your jaw clenched and your eyes cast down.

"You couldn't have told us this yesterday? It could have saved us some important time!" The youngest one stared up at you with a pained expression. Your eyes flashed as your gaze flew to meet his.

"Well excuse me for not readily agreeing to reveal my identity to a bunch of strangers who had just walked in!" you seethed. The one with blue eyes stared at you with a very serious expression. You frowned at him.

"The hell are you looking at blue eyes?" A frown creased across his handsome face as he appeared confused by your comment.

"Don't mind Cas, he's just not that used to –" leather jacket made a circling gesture with his hands. "- mingling." He finished lamely. You sighed heavily and sat down.

"Well what are your names, and what do you want?" You controlled your expression carefully and examined each man in front of you.

"Dean, Sam, Castiel." Leather jacket – Dean – pointed to each of them in turn. "We're here to talk to you about your father." You felt an unladylike snort escape before you could react.

"I don't have one."

"Everyone has a father, even me." Castiel said in his deep gravelly voice. You frowned at his odd statement.

"I don't have one." You repeated for good measure. "My mum had a one night stand and, oh look! Here I am." You crossed your arms in front of you and glared at a fixed spot on the table in front of you. You miss the shared glance between Sam and Dean. Dean cleared his throat.

"Well you did have a dad. Our dad. John Winchester. You're our…sister." You felt your pulse quicken as your gaze lifted to meet theirs. Your mouth opened slightly on its own accord.

"Sister. Dad. Yours. Mine." You processed their words slowly. Sam and Dean stared at you expectantly. "So…you're my brothers?" You look at the three of them.

"Yeah, well, not him." Sam glanced at Castiel.

"Yeah he's our friend." Dean interjected. Castiel shifted his gaze to the blonde.

"We have matters that are extremely important to discuss with you." You gape at blue eyes and stutter.

"I'm sorry?"

"You are forgiven." Cas smiled at you. You shake your head.

"No I mean, what do you mean. There are things more important than discovering I have family?" Castiel opened his mouth to speak but Dean jumped in quickly.

"Maybe we should take a walk." You frowned but reluctantly agreed. As you followed the boys out of the café you received some confused glances from the other customers. Known to most of the town as a loner you were going to have some explaining to do. You walked out into the fresh air and took a deep breath.

"So, what's so important that you had to come here from America to tell me?" You started walking in the direction of the river, your feet finding familiarity in your surroundings.

"You are in grave danger." Blue eyes, no Castiel, said solemnly. Your feet stopped.

"I'm in danger?" You looked around you at the crappy town that had been your home for the past two decades. You didn't think it was possible. Here you were well known. You were safe.

"Maybe we should do the talking Cas." Sam looked at you. A group of girls walked past, eyeing up the boys and casting confused glances at you. The boys didn't notice.

"We do a line of work that is…different." Sam started. "We're hunters." You frowned. Hunting wasn't that weird. In Scotland you hunt all sorts. Rabbit, Pheasant, Deer.

"We hunt the supernatural." Dean said bluntly. You pushed down the sigh that rose in your throat. Great. Your new found family were crackpots.

"Everything you thought wasn't real is." You pressed your lips together and nodded.

"Soo, Nessie, fairies, vampires etc?" You asked. The sooner you could get rid of these crazies the better. The boys nodded.

"All of that and more." You raised your eyebrows and nodded.

"Okay, so why am I in danger?" Sam and Dean shared a glance between them. For a moment you felt jealous. They were clearly close. Closer than you had been to anyone in years. They were raised as brothers. They could communicate with a look. You were alone.

"Angels are after you." Castiel said, his voice deep and gravelly. It might have been attractive if he wasn't insane.

"Angels." You said bluntly. "Aren't they supposed to be good?" You really needed a cigarette. You wondered if you could make it to the Police station if you sprinted. You eyed up how much longer their legs were. Probably not. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Some Angels are good, some are a pain in the ass. And some are just bad mother fuckers."

"Uh huh." You said not committedly.

"She doesn't believe any of this. She think your-" Castiel raised his fingers in the air to make quote marks "-crackpots, and crazies, she's debating whether or not to run to the Police station." Your jaw dropped as you stared into his blue, oh so fucking blue, eyes.

"How did you?" An uneasiness began to build in your stomach.

"Oh thank god!" Dean exclaimed. "You were taking this so well I was worried." In spite of yourself you grinned.

"I know this sounds crazy, and it's really hard to take in. But we're telling you the truth. Cas is an Angel. He can read thoughts." Your eyebrow quirked as you stared at the angel inquisitively.

"What no wings? No halo? I'm disappointed." His mouth drew into a straight line.

"That would be extremely conspicuous on Earth." You fought the urge to smirk. The guy had a point.

"So why are the holy non feathery angels after me?" You asked. Dean and Sam shuffled their feet.

"There's a sort of prophecy. A destiny. It has a lot to do with our bloodlines. Angels, Demons, good, bad – that kind of thing." Unable to handle any more you drew out your cigarette packet and lit one. The boys frowned.

"You smoke?" Sam asked.

"No, they just happened to be in my pocket." Dean grinned at your sarcasm and you inhaled deeply.

"So, hypothetically, if I buy into this and don't go to the Police; what happens now?"

"Well, you can come to America with us and we can keep you safe. You're our family after all. You can meet Bobby, he's sort of our adopted dad."

"Adopted dad? What happened to our real dad?" You tried hard to hide your disappointment. After years of not having a father you'd hoped to meet him and get to know him. Talk about daddy issues.

"Our dad went to Hell to saves Dean life." Sam stared down at you as your brows drew together.

"Right. Of course. That's normal." Dean shrugged.

"It's just the way it is. You with us or not?" You sighed heavily and studied each of them with a measured look.

"I can't believe I'm saying this. But yeah – I'm with you."


	4. Haggis and Giggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is Scottish and Crowley is Scottish....I just had to add him in! Love xx

You crushed out your cigarette under your shoe.

"So what now?" Sam looked at you sadly.

"You'll have to come with us to America now." Your mind whirred over this fact and the speed at which your life was changing.

"Leave here? For how long?" Dean cleared his throat.

"We don't know. Months. Years. Maybe. It depends on what the Angels want with you."

"I know this is a lot to take in. And leaving your home is going to be hard –" Sam stopped talking when he seen the huge smile that had spread over your face. "You're not upset?" You shook you head.

"Are you kidding? I get to leave this shithole? Lets go!" Taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm the men just stared at you. You rolled your E/C eyes and headed for your car. With his long legs Sam quickly caught up with you.

"Seriously? You're okay with this? Leaving everything behind?" You spun around to face him.

"Just for a second, imagine living in this crappy town your whole life. Where everyone knows everything about you. And they make the rest up anyway. I don't fit in here. I never have. And now you've just given me the opportunity to escape!" There was a slight pause after your outburst before Dean clapped his hands together and smirked.

"Well alrighty then, lead the way Y/N." You pulled your keys from your pocket and unlocked the door to your little car. Dean burst into hysterical laughter.

"What's so funny?" You glared at him. After seeing your icy expression his laughter died.

"That's what you drive?" You narrowed your eyes at him before climbing in.

"Don't insult her car Dean." Sam murmured under his breath.

"You can hardly call it a car." Dean said under his breath. Watching them in the mirror you saw Dean walk around the side of the car and open the passenger door.

"No." You barked. Dean bent down to look at you, startled. "Blue eyes can go in the front."

"Cas?" Dean exclaimed in disbelief. Your E/C eyes met his green ones in defiance. He groaned in frustration.

"After you feathers". Castiel slid in beside you with the ghost of a smile on his lips. You waited for Sam and Dean to fold themselves into the back before starting the engine. The suspension of the small old car squealed in protest at the extra weight as you floored it. You heard Dean mutter something under his breath. Choosing to ignore it you pressed play on the tape player, delighted when "Whiksey in the Jar" by "Thin Lizzy" started blaring. You missed the nod of approval from Dean at your music taste and the look of despair from Sam.

In under five minutes your car had screeched to a stop outside your house and you jumped out. Castiel stood silently looking up at your home while the brothers – your brothers – fought their way out of the car.

"Grab what you need and say goodbye." Sam said gently. You took a deep breath and walked into your house.

1 hour later

You had rammed as much as you could into your holdall. It was mostly clothes, a few books, your laptop and a photo album of you and your mum. Your makeup and straighteners followed although you weren't sure there would be much need for them. You walked into the living room where the boys were waiting.

When you had been busy in your room the boys had rooted around in your house gathering as much knowledge as they could to try and figure you out. You were proud of your home. It was warm and welcoming, you tried to keep it as tidy as possible. They hadn't found a lot however. A few photo's here and there, drawings, and a good collection of music.

"Done?" Dean asked, looking from your holdall to you.

"Done." You breathed glancing around uncertainly. Every memory of your life here came flooding into your mind. Sitting on the couch with mum watching Disney movies with an obscene amount of popcorn. Hanging stockings above the fireplace on Christmas eve. Baking cookies in the kitchen singing along (badly) to Tom Jones.

"You okay Y/N?" Sam asked quietly. You looked up at him and plastered a grin on your face.

"I'm fine." Even though everyone in the room knew you were lying they accepted your answer without question. Castiel walked over to you, his cobalt eyes bore into yours and you suddenly felt very calm.

"This may feel a little strange." He warned you. You stared up at him and took a deep breath. He placed his cool fingers on your forehead. You felt your stomach drop and your eyes squeezed shut. The floor slipped away from under your feet, it wasn't falling, and it wasn't floating. It was as though you were under water, being pushed and pulled by a forces until you no longer knew which way was up.

Nausea rose in your throat and a pressure pushed at your temples. Your hand squeezed tighter around your bag and you prayed for it to be over. You needed to throw up.

Suddenly the whirling stopped and you had solid ground beneath your feet. Your eyes popped open and your knees buckled at the suddenness. Strong arms gripped you tight and held you upright. You gasped and clutched the angels arm.

"Sorry." He murmured.

Feeling steadier you glanced around. You were standing in an unfamiliar kitchen. You wrinkled your nose. This place could definitely do with an airing and a tidy. It smelled of men and grease and rotten eggs. Two men had their backs to you and appeared to be arguing over whatever they were cooking at the time.

"Are you sure it's supposed to look like that? What was it you said? Lambs guts?" The shorter man who was, for some reason, dressed in a suit sighed and bit back.

"I know what I'm bloody doing you hillbilly now just bloody leave it alone!" His British accent surprised you. Cas cleared his throat and the two men spun around. The older looking man held a carving knife outstretched and the Brit faced you wielding a Spatula.

"Bobby, Crowley; This is Y/N." You felt a slight breath of air and heard a fluttering and the angel had disappeared. You stared at the space next to you in shock before your gaze rested on the two men in front of you. You nodded your head.

"Hello." Bobby grinned at you.

"Well hello, the name's Bobby. We were just making some food, make yourself at home, wings should be back with them eejits soon. You want a beer or anything?" You felt yourself warm to him quickly. He had an old fashioned, no nonsense air about him. You sat down at the table with a heavy thump.

"Don't suppose there's any chance of a whiskey?" You joked. The shorter man, Crowley, smirked and produced a bottle from seemingly thin air.

"Single malt alright princess?" He said in a seductive voice. Your eyebrows rose as you regarded him again carefully. Expensive looking Italian shoes and a handmade suit made with a materiel that was the darkest shade of black you'd ever seen. The look was only partially thrown off by the apron he was wearing that featured the body of a bikini clad woman.

"Sounds braw." You murmured. "So are you an angel as well?" But somehow you knew he wasn't. There was something about him that made you think he wasn't an angel at all. Crowleys lips twisted into a grin as he poured the whiskey into a glass for you. He handed you the drink.

"Try King of Hell darling." You stared at him in shock for a moment before bringing the glass to your lips and downed the amber liquid in one swift motion.

"You drink Scotch?" a familiar voice asked incredulously. You looked up at Dean.

"Well the King of Hell has excellent taste, and it's just called whiskey where I'm from." Crowley laughed as Deans jaw dropped. You motioned for a refill.

"Looks like she is your sister after all Squirrel" said the King of Hell. "Although she's much better looking than both of you."

"What the hell are you doing here anyway Crowley?" Dean demanded. "It stinks of Sulphur." That must have been the rotten eggs smell you picked up before.

Bobby stepped forwards.

"I called him in, figured we could use a resident expert, to make Y/N feel more at home." You frowned.

"Resident expert in what?" Crowley turned to face you.

"When I was human, the name was Fergus MacLeod. I was a tailor in Canisbay. I died about 300 years ago." You took a second to process his words before downing your second dram of malt.

"So, just to recap; I have two American brothers who hunt supernatural things. Which exist by the way. Their best friend is an Angel, you magically teleported me to…somewhere. And the King of Hell is Scottish." The men around you shared a look.

"That is a fair assessment of the facts." Castiel said. Crowley rolled his eyes at the heavenly being and knelt beside you.

"Are you okay love?" You stared at him, he was rather handsome for the King of Hell. At that you began you giggle. The startled look on his face made you laugh even harder until tears were falling down your face and you were gasping for air.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked, concern etched onto his features.

"The King of Hell." You gasped between fits of laughter. "Just asked if I was okay!" You cackled away at the ridiculous situation until you could laugh no more. Heaving a contented sigh you sat up and brushed the tears from your cheeks.

"Sorry." You smirked. "I was a little overwhelmed. Moment of madness over." The men cast wary glances at you before Bobby placed a giant pile of food in front of you.

"What. The Hell. Is that?" Dean asked in disgust. Your face lit up with delight.

"Haggis!" You cried. You grabbed the fork Bobby was holding out for you and began shovelling the dark meat into your mouth. You hadn't eaten all day and you were starving.

"Come again?"

"Haggis." Bobby repeated. "It's a Scottish delicacy." He was proud that he had apparently done a good job. You were eating it anyway. Dean made to grab a fork.

"Yes, sheep stomach stuffed with heart, liver, lungs and oats." Crowley grinned. Your brother blanched and put down his fork.

"Try it! It's good!" You insisted.

"Are you crazy? Did you just hear what's in that?" Dean stared at you incredulously. You rolled your eyes.

"Och don't be a baby! I've been eating Haggis since I was a bairn (Child)! Or are you just a scardy cat?" You waggled your eyebrows and held the plate out towards him. Everyone's eyes fell on Dean as he hesitantly picked up the fork again. He put a small bit in his mouth and chewed. His eyebrows flew up in surprise.

"It's actually not bad." You smiled happily and resumed eating. When you had finished you were shown to your room.

"It's not much, but you'll be safe here." Sam explained before leaving you to get settles in. Exhausted from the days events you dropped you bag to the floor, kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto the be. Your heart rate slowed and your breathing became deeper as you fell into a deep sleep.


	5. Archangels and Kettles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So us Brits do love our Kettles! Yay! Gabriel makes an appearance :-) Warning, there is a lot of swearing in the chapter. Love xx

When you woke up you were confused. It was dark but you knew you weren't in your room. You always kept your fairy lights on at night. There was no light here. No familiar glow of the streetlamp outside your window. The house you were in didn't feel familiar at all. You couldn't identify any of the sounds that creaked in the night.

You reached under the pillow for your phone. The sudden brightness of the screen made you squint. It was just after 0400. You groaned and stretched, your body feeling stiff. As you moved you realised you were still fully dressed.

"Fuck sake" You mumbled. Now remembering where you were you sat up and reached for your holdall. You pulled a pair of sleeping shorts and a tank top on. You really needed a glass of water. Better yet, a hot chocolate. You wonder briefly if it was a good idea to leave your room.

"Fuck it." You mumbled again. This was to be your home now so you'd leave your room whenever you wanted. You stood up and stretched, the cold air sending goosebumps up your legs.

Making your way through the house you moved to where you remembered the kitchen was. You moved quietly taking in as much of the place as you could, until you heard voices.

"Please. They're on my ass. Just for a while. It's safe here!" A low voice that you didn't recognise appeared to be pleading with someone.

"It's the Winchesters decision, and I don't think they'll like it much." You heard Castiels deep gravelly voice. Do Angels not sleep? Making a mental note to ask him later you pressed on a step.

"Do I look like I give a crap about what those two asseholes say!?" The voice exclaimed. You frowned. They may not have been your family for long, and they may be asseholes at times. But you didn't like them talked about like that. You heard Cas about to make a reply when the other voice interrupted.

"There's someone in the hall."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Was all you thought as you turned and raced back to your room. You didn't know why you felt guilty about eavesdropping, but if two people are having a conversation after 4am they probably didn't want to be over heard.

You collided with a solid thing. You lashed out but a strong hand was placed over your mouth and you felt yourself lifted off the ground. As you kicked and squirmed and tried to shout your captor appeared to carry with ease towards the kitchen. As you entered the kitchen you made out Castiel looking perplexed. His eyes widened when he saw you.

The vice grip on you loosened and you dropped to the ground.

"She sure does struggle some." The voice said. You whipped around and lunged at your new found enemy, a long list of expletives pouring from your mouth. Two strong hands gripped your from behind and the focus of your attention placed his hand over your mouth. You turned your head towards Cas who was holding you back and swore at him forcefully.

"Who do we have here little brother?" Your eyes widened as you looked at Castiels brother. They didn't even look similar. Where Cas stood much taller than you, and had chiselled dark features, this man was only an inch or two taller, with softer features and lighter hair. He didn't look nearly as serious as the angel holding you.

"This is Y/N, Sam and Deans sister." The blonde angels eyebrows rose as he regarded you again.

"Little sister?" The man laughed. "This is beautiful." Your eyes narrowed and you swore at him. His hand was still firmly clamped over your mouth.

"Dean would be proud." The angel smirked.

"Noone is to know about Y/N's existence. The Angels want her for something, that's why she's here." Cas explained. The blonde nodded and gingerly took his hand from your mouth.

"Don't want you waking everyone up cupcake."

"Who the fuck are you?" You asked.

"The Archangel Gabriel." He replied, waggling his eyebrows. Despite your self you felt your jaw drop.

"Gabriel as in, Jesus, Mary, preggers etc?" You asked. He nodded.

"The one and only!"

"I thought you'd be less of a dick." You grumbled. Castiel chuckled. You moved looked around for a kettle.

"Where's the kettle?" You exclaimed, realising with horror, that there was no kettle.

"I don't understand." Castiel stated.

"A kettle! An electric thing you put water in, it boils the water so you can have coffee, tea, hot chocolate and stuff."

"So this is called a Kettle?" He asked holding up what looked like a coffee peculator.

"No, that's a machine that makes coffee. Do bloody Americans not have kettles!?" You actually started to freak out. What the bloody hell do these people do for tea. Gabriel started laughing.

"Shut up!" You cried.

"I didn't realise how much British people liked their tea." You narrowed your eyes. He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. Suddenly he was holding the most amazing looking hot chocolate you'd ever witnessed in your life. Chocolate was oozing over the sides, marshmallows and a flake were balanced precariously on top of what looked like chocolate whipped cream. It was all drizzled in a chocolatey-fudge sauce. He held it out to you.

"How?" was all you asked, looking at him in wonder as you took the hot cup. He smirked and motioned to himself.

"Archangel cupcake." You felt yourself smile and took a sip. Your mum used to joke about how you didn't have a sweet-tooth. You had a full set of sweet teeth. And this drink that you had been gifted was the sweetest, most sugary, delightful thing you had ever tasted. You closed your eyes to savour the chocolatey goodness.

"Sorry for calling you a dick." You murmured, opening your E/C blue eyes and trying to make out the colour of the angels in the dark.

"Don't be sorry, he is a dick." You turned to see Dean standing in the darkness. You opened your mouth but found you had nothing to say.

"Cas, what the hell is he doing here?" Dean demanded. Cas looked at the ground.

"Don't shout at your boyfriend, my angel status outranks his, he can't be blamed for me." Gabriel snapped.

"I don't want you within a hundred miles for here." Dean's voice grew dangerously low and the hairs on your neck raised. Gabriel turned to you and winked.

"Enjoy the drink cupcake" And just like that he disappeared.

"Y/N I don't want you to talk to that guy, he's an asshole." Your big brother turned and stalked back down the hall.

You turned to Castiel.

"What did Gabriel do to piss Dean off?" Castiel shrugged.

"What didn't he do?"

"Who is after him?" You tried again. Cas sighed.

"The angels, Gabriel disappeared out of heaven a long time ago and has been running ever since."

"Surely Sam and Dean would let him stay, it's safe here, and the angels are after me too!" Castiel looked at me sadly.

"All of them are too stubborn to do anything. Gabriel won't directly ask them and they wouldn't agree to it even if he did." You took another sip.

"So the King of Hell is okay to come over and cook dinner, but an archangel is a step too far? My brothers have weird boundaries." The handsome angel smiled sadly. You bid him goodnight and took yourself off to your room. You sat for a while drinking hot chocolate and thinking about the Archangel. By 0530 you were asleep again. You didn't notice the blonde haired shadow steal silently into your room. Or the Kettle that he placed on your bedstand.


	6. Runs, Guns, and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not overly keen on this chapter, it just doesn't feel right. Let me know what you think! Love xx

The days passed and you developed a routine. The boys would often leave to go on hunts. You would be left with Bobby to do research. He showed you how. Crowley would drop by from time to time with your favourite malt and you would talk about Scotland together. Everything was fine until Sam suggested going for a run.

"A what?" You asked. He went for a 6-8 mile run nearly everyday. But you? You hadn't done any exercise since school. And even then you tried to get out of it as much as possible.

"Just try it, you might like it."

"Sam, I started smoking cigarettes at 15, I have the lungs of an asthmatic child. And I don't do exercise". He looked at you, his soft brown hair tipping to the side as his big puppy dog eyes pleaded with you. You groaned in frustration.

"Fine." You snapped. "I'll come, but don't expect me to do 6 bloody miles, or be able to keep up."

But over time you learned to love it. You ran 6 miles with him most days. You even kept it up when they were gone on hunts. You were the fittest you had been for a long time. Everything was going smoothly, until Dean offered to teach you how to shoot.

"Right, what's going on? Bobby teaching me how to do research, running with Sam and now shooting?" You knew with one glance at your eldest brother that there was indeed something going on. His green eyes met yours and he cleared his throat.

"We were thinking you could become a hunter in training?"

"So I'd get to come and hunt bad stuff with you and Sam?" You asked. He nodded.

"Eventually, once we feel you're ready." Your lips turned up on their own accord.

"Hells yeah!"

Later that day you were in the back yard with Dean. The sunshine was beating down, it was much warmer here than it was in Scotland. You were enjoying the change of weather. You had freckles on your skin. You still had a milk bottle tinge to your skin however. You looked over at your brother. His skin was far darker than yours, his hair had blonder flecks in the sunshine. He had set up some targets for you to practise shooting at. He held the gun out to you.

"We can get down to the parts of the gun, maintaining and cleaning it later. I want to see how good you are first."

"You mean how bad I am." You murmured. The gun felt cool and heavy in your hand. The only guns you'd ever used had been shotguns and air rifles for clay pigeon shooting. You didn't even know how to hold it. You outstretched your arm and held it in the general direction of the target. You glanced sideways at your brother to see if that was right. He nodded. You clicked off the safety and began firing.

Dean whistled and turned to you with his eyebrows raised.

"You're good. If you can do that with moving targets on a hunt you'll be just fine." You smiled and turned your head to the ground but inside you were bursting with pride.

"Hey." Dean said softly. You looked up at him. "You're allowed to be proud of your achievements. Sammy and I have been doing this our whole lives. You've just been chucked into it. So things that come second nature to us are a big deal for you. You're doing well kiddo. You've got more than a drop of Winchester in you." You jumped up for a bone crushing hug. As your brother held you tight you realised this is what you had been missing your whole life. You didn't fit in in Annan. But here, as bizarre as it was, you belonged.

"Hope I'm not interrupting a Disney moment, but Y/N I think you need to come inside for a moment." The look on Bobby's face said it all. Bad news. You trailed inside after him with your heart thudding in your chest. Sam, Castiel and Bobby were sat around the kitchen table. Sam looked at you sadly and turned the laptop screen to face you.

"I've been keeping an eye on your town in case there were any signs of angel activity. I came across this just now."

Hot tears flowed down your cheeks, you barely heard him as you read the article. The face of your best friend Katie was staring up at you.

"Dead." You whispered. That was the only thing that stood out. You had only emailed her the other day. She couldn't be. She was getting married. She was going to be an amazing nurse. She –

"I'm sorry Y/N." Sam murmured. He lay a comforting hand on your arm. You snatched your arm away.

"No." You hissed fiercely. This couldn't be true. She was miles away. How could she die? Your mind whirled with thoughts and the tears continued to fall. The kitchen suddenly felt too small. Your breathing increased and your head swam. So you bolted. You flew past Dean and out the door. You sprinted until you couldn't breath and you couldn't see. Fuzzy dots appeared on the edge of your vision and you forced yourself to stop. You fell to the ground and held your head in your hands until your breathing became normal.

Looking around you, you realised you were about 2 miles into the trail that you and Sam ran. You thought about walking back. Maybe in a bit. So you sat in the dirt and thought about Katie.

"You okay darling?". You stared at the black shoes that appeared in front of you about an hour later. You squinted up at the King of Hell.

"I'm fine." You said. Your voice was flat and your gaze was dead. The Demon sat down in the dirt with you.

"I popped in to find you, when Moose and Squirrel told me about what happened to your friend I said I would find you. They're worried about you. Worried enough to let me come and find you. To check you weren't doing anything stupid." You didn't reply, you simply played with a blade of grass between your fingers. Crowley held your hands still.

"Look at me darling." You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. In the daylight you noticed they were grey coloured, like the Scottish sky on an overcast day.

"It's okay to not be okay." You shook your head.

"Sam and Dean are always so fucking strong. I'm not like them."

"You don't have to be like them. They're good at what they do, but they're far from perfect. You can cry, you can feel sad, it doesn't mean you're not just as strong." You couldn't help it. The tears began to fall slowly.

"She's amazing y'know? A genuinely nice person. She had her whole life in front of her. She was the closest thing to a family I had. She's always just accepted me for me. She can't be gone." Crowley sighed heavily.

"I'm not good at this feelings thing. I don't do comforting. I do the opposite in fact. I can't heal your pain sweetheart, that's gonna take time. But it'll go by quicker if you're with your family. You don't have to be by yourself." You're tearful E/C eyes met his and the King of Hell awkwardly patted your arm.

"But I've always been by myself. That's what I know how to do. I don't know how to be part of a family." You whispered. You're voice was thick with held back sobs. You hated crying in front of people. It made you feel vulnerable and weak. Truthfully you knew you were scared. Scared to depend on your brothers, on Bobby and Crowley, on the angels. Because all you've ever known is that people leave. And you are left alone. Again. And it hurts.

So you'd learned to deal with things by yourself. To depend only on you. To save yourself from that hurt. But Katie had slipped through the cracks. And now she was gone as well.

"I know you're scared, but if there's one thing you can depend on Winchester's doing, it's coming back. Again, and again. No matter how hard death seems to try, they just won't quit!" A brief smile ghosted your lips. You knew that your brothers had been to Hell. That they had died repeatedly. And despite that they were still here. Teaching you, looking after you, and saving the World.

"Would you walk me home please?" you asked him. The Demon smiled and offered you his hand. He brought you to your feet softly and you headed back toward home.

"Got any whiskey?" You asked. Crowley smirked and gestured in the direction you were heading.

"Let's just get you home before the plaid twins decide to try and exorcise me." You couldn't help but return his smirk.

"I wouldn't let them, I need my whiskey, the swill Bobby and Dean drinks is just offensive." Your nose crinkled as you spoke. Crowley threw his head back and laughed.

"I can drink to that my dear." A comfortable silence stretched between the two of you as you walked the trail back to the bunker. You reached for the door but it swung open before you could touch it. You were pulled into a bone crushing hug from Sam.

"Thank god! We've been worried! You can't just run off like that!" He released you only for you to be pulled into a similar one by Dean.

"Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? From now on no more running away! If you're upset you stay here and you drink. You talk. You bottle it up. Whatever. But you don't just run off." You couldn't hold back the tears. Slowly they made their way down your cheeks. You nodded into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You said thickly. Dean rubbed your back softly before letting you go. You trailed into the bunker. Bobby was in the kitchen drinking scotch. He stood up when you walked in and gave you a hug. Your entire life you had wondered what your father was like. What it would be like to have one at parents evenings and to chase off boyfriends. Since you had been here you had stopped wondering. Bobby was everything you hoped a father would be. He was (very) rough around the edges, he would never be one to open up to about your feelings. But he filled the place of your absent father better than anyone could.

"Eejit" He whispered. You were comforted by the smell of Bobby. The smell of oil, sawdust, and sulphur. You breathed it in deeply and felt calmed.

"I'm going to the Library" You announced softly. You were worn out and the Library was your safe place in the Bunker. The fire, the books, the sofa. It all made for a perfect place to hide from the world. Nobody said anything to this, although Crowley held out a large tumbler of whiskey.

"Glenfiddich?" You asked with your eyebrow raised.

"Of course, now if you'll all excuse me, I have a kingdom to run." And he vanished.

You curled up in the library. You couldn't be bothered to read a book but nursed your drink whilst staring into the flames. You were vaguely aware of the boys popping in now and again to check on you. You felt numb. You weren't sure if it was the whiskey or shock setting in, but you couldn't feel anything. Your eyelids drooped and your head started nodding. You were exhausted. At some point in the night Sam stuck his head round the door and saw that you were sound asleep. He walked over to you quietly and picked you up as gently as he could.

He looked down at your sleeping face, your tear stained cheeks and your puffy eyelids. He marvelled at how fragile you were. He never thought he would have a little sister to protect. Sam was used to being protected, the baby of the family. But now he had someone to protect. You were vulnerable in the same way a nut was. Encased in a hard shell of witty remarks and attitude you were gentle. Soft even.

He carried you through to your room without waking you. He lay you on you bed and covered you with your sheet. You sighed softly. Part of him wished they had never fetched you from that sleepy town in Scotland. You could have stayed there and led a normal life. But Sam wasn't an idiot. He could see how easily you had fit in with this life. How easily you had charmed everyone. Hell, even Crowley adored you.

"Night Y/N, sweet dreams." He whispered before his large frame closed the door and left you to the darkness.


	7. Cookies and Crushes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happier with this one, hints at Gabriel x Reader this chapter. Also, baking - gotta love cookies :-) Love xx

Sitting up quickly you noticed two things at once. Firstly, that it was dark, you couldn't see a damn thing. Secondly, that you were in your bed and not the library. You sat in the dark listening to your breathing. You blood thrummed in your ears. You realised you were still wearing your clothes and that you were sweating profusely. Someone must have put you to bed. That was nice of them.

Stretching, you swung your legs out of bed. It was a little after 0430. Wriggling out of your jeans and tops you made your way to the bathroom. After a quick shower you felt much better. You wanted to curl up in bed and ignore the world. But a nagging voice in your mind told you something different. A nagging voice that sounded a lot like Katie's. She would have told you to get up and glam up. You were surrounded by hot men for gods' sake. Turn the music up and clean. Or bake cookies. Or clean and bake cookies. So with a small smile on your face that's exactly what you did.

You pulled on some fresh ripped jeans and a black tank top. A faded red and black plaid shirt followed. You really were turning into your brothers. In your defence tartan plaid is Scottish…right? You tied a red ribbon into your H/C hair and found a lipstick that matched perfectly. You winged your eyeliner with an immaculate precision.

Nobody was awake yet – why would they be? It wasn't even 5am. You assumed Cas was hovering around somewhere but you wouldn't bother looking for him. Let his angel senses tingle for a while. You crept towards the kitchen, much like you had on your first night here. You switched on your kettle and your iPod. A good thing about the bunker was that, with such thick walls, sound didn't really travel. You opened the back door and sat on the porch steps. You didn't smoke cigarettes much since coming here, but you still shared the occasional one with Crowley when he called. You pulled one out now. The crisp morning air was damp and cool. Mist was rolling across the ground. It was strangely still. Goosedbumps crept over your arms and you huddled into yourself. You lit the end and inhaled deeply, savouring the feeling in your lungs and enjoying the way the smoke curled and spiralled into the air.

You thought for a few moments of all the cigarettes you and Katie had shared. Hiding behind the bike sheds at school. Sitting on your windowsill late at night. Tipsy at the pub after a long week. Heaving a sigh you flick your cigarette away and pushed to your feet. Back inside the kitchen you poured your coffee and danced a little to the music. You cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, scrubbing places that hadn't seen the light of day since before you were born. You chucked the put of date food away before starting on the cooker. By the time you were finished it didn't look like the normal kitchen anymore. It was gleaming, and tidy, and organised.

Bobby and the boys usually woke around half past seven and you wanted to have breakfast ready for them.

Singing softly to the music and dancing you began mixing cookie batter. You didn't notice the flutter of wings.

For the first time in his very long life he was left speechless by the sheer beauty of a woman. Gabriel stood in the kitchen staring at you and felt his jaw go slack. His amber eyes followed the way your hair fell down your back and the sway of your hips and you moved. Your voice sounded like an early morning in Spring.

Of course the Archangel turned trickster had been attracted to you from the moment he met you. Your fiery spirit and charming wit amused him. You spoke with Deans profanity and confidence but you had the intellectual capabilities of Sam. Not to mention the fact you were stunning. Huge E/C eyes, hair that he wanted to tangle his fingers in, and creamy smooth skin he wanted to touch. Of course your brothers would probably have a slight issue with his fantasies. Nothing he couldn't handle. It was true, he was attracted to a human. But it was that moment, standing in the kitchen staring at you, which he fell for you.

Fuck. Was all he thought.

"Hey cupcake." He said softly. You spun around in surprise with the mixing bowl in your hand. The smile that shone from you face made his heartrate increase. Yep, he was fucked.

"Gabriel!" You exclaimed in delight. "I should have known you'd drop by when I was making cookies." He smirked.

"You know me sugar lips, sweet tooth on a legendary scale." He winked and you laughed softly.

"Well your sweet tooth is going to have to behave if you want any cookies." The Archangel in front of you pouted and gave you better puppy dog eyes than even Sam could manage. You felt your resolve waver. Damn his cuteness.

"Fine, you can lick the bowl if you're good." The Archangel smiled, genuinely smiled. It wasn't a smirk or a grin, it was an expression of happiness that made his eyes twinkle and crease in the corners.

"What has you up so early anyway Princess? It looks like a totally different kitchen." He said, walking towards you to inspect the cookie dough. You didn't reply. You didn't want the truth to ruin your mood so you merely shrugged and beat the batter harder. Before he could comment Castiel appeared in the kitchen. You wondered if you would ever get used to it. People just suddenly being there. He nodded to both of you.

"I heard voices" he said.

"I'm not sharing the cookie dough." Gabriel stuck out his tongue. Castiel frowned.

"I do not understand." You rolled your eyes playfully and resumed baking. You liked Cas. It was easy to forget that he and Gabriel were two of the most powerful beings to have walked the earth.

"Y/N how are you feeling this morning? Dean told me you would most likely want to stay in bed today." You smiled at the angels concern.

"I'm doing okay thanks blue-eyes. I decided to clean and bake." Gabriel frowned.

"What's this? What's happened? Have I missed something?" You looked down at your severely beaten batter.

"Y/N was informed yesterday that her friend had demised in a car crash." Castiel said bluntly. Well, there goes your good mood.

"Tactfully put brother." Gabriel murmured, looking at you softly. You refused to look up from your baking and bustled around the kitchen looking for a baking tray. Once it had been located and the cookies to be had been popped in the oven you held the bowl out to Gabriel. He grabbed the bowl from your hands and went to work on licking it clean.

"Oh my father that is amazing – Y/N I'm going to kidnap you so you can bake for me every day." You laughed.

"I'll bake for you anytime sunshine." You stuck your finger in the bowl. Gabriel noticed how dainty your hand looked as you scooped some of the mixture onto your finger. He watched with a hunger that had nothing to do with the cookie dough as you popped the digit in your mouth and closed your eyes. As you sucked your finger he felt his jeans begin to get tight.

No. This couldn't be happening. Not to him. You were a human for his fathers sake. And at 21 he didn't think you had the manipulative instinct to be this sexy deliberately. A human girl could not make him feel like this.

You made to scoop out another piece when Gabriel decided to resume control. He grabbed your wrist before you could stick your finger in your mouth again. Before you registered what had happened your finger was in his mouth.

"Oh!" You exclaimed softly. His mouth was warm. He started sucking on your finger, his tongue washing over your digit whilst his amber gaze was locked onto yours. It was the most strangely arousing moment you had felt in a long time. Perhaps ever. And Gabriel knew it. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing by the devilish glint in his eye. A blush crept up to you cheeks and you snatched your hand back.

"Anymore behaviour like that and there will be no more baking!" You scolded. The Archangel smirked.

"Yes boss." You narrowed your eyes and started preparing to make muffins. Castiel helped you wash up and measure out ingredients.

"I have never "baked" before." He confessed, using quotation gestures that you found adorable.

"I'll teach you" You replied brightly.

Despite Gabriels constant interfering and his outright thieving of ingredients, by half past 7 you had two batches of cookies, a large batch of muffins and a very proud blue-eyed angel.

"You did brilliantly Cas!" You gushed. He smiled broadly. "Deans going to love them" you added and watched the angels cheeks colour. You had figured out that the angel had a huge crush on your eldest brother. And you were almost 100% certain that Dean felt the same way.

As if on cue a very sleepy looking Dean stumbled into the kitchen. He looked around him in confusion at you, the angel, and Gabriel sat on the counter with a spoon and another bowl.

"What the-" You thrust a warm muffin at him.

"Cas made you muffins for breakfast." Dean looked warily at you and then Castiel.

"Okaaaay?" He took the muffin and bit into it. "Holy Shit." He said through a full mouth. He looked at Cas in amazement.

"Cas these are awesome! When did you learn to bake?" He asked reaching for another.

"Y/n showed me how." Castiel murmured proudly.

"He's a natural." You said with a smile.

The mornings surprise went down well with Sam and especially Bobby, who adored cookies. By midday there was none left, although you suspected Gabriel had a lot to do with that before he disappeared.

"Y/N!" You heard Bobby holler your name.

"Yeah?" You called.

"Did you clean my kitchen!?" Woops. Time to go. Giggling you snuck to your room and collapsed on your bed. A put-out Bobby Singer was not what you wanted to deal with right now.


	8. Angsty Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tad of drama from Gabriel, a dash of sarcasm from Balthazar, a drop of whiskey from Crowley and a favour from Castiel. What does that mean? Chapter 8! Love xx

“You have to help me!” Gabriel cried. He dragged his fingers through his golden hair. Shit. This girl. This perfect, utterly imperfect, beautiful girl was tormenting him. He threw himself down onto the black leather couch and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered briefly why such a large chandelier was necessary.  
Balthazar heaved a sigh. He crossed his long legs and brought his drink to his lips. What was it with his brothers and falling in love with bloody Winchesters?   
“You’re beyond saving I’m afraid.” Gabriel groaned and glared over at his brother.   
“That’s not helpful.” Balthazar shrugged his shoulders.  
“What the hell do you want me to say? You come here, you interrupt by busy schedule, so you can mope around and lament about this bloody girl.” He looked pointedly at the Archangel, very aware of the fact Gabriel was far more powerful than him. But at that moment he was being pathetic.   
“I am not moping.” Gabriel said childishly. Balthazar arched an eyebrow.   
“She’s just so perfect Balthy, I’ve never felt this way before. She’s beautiful, and smart, and so incredibly witty. But poor me for she will never return my feelings and blah de blah de blah.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes.   
“I do not sound like that.” But perhaps he had a point. He was fawning over her like a 14 year old school girl would the latest boy band.  
“Get a bloody grip!” Balthazar snapped. “She’s a twenty one year old human girl, if you do really like her, leave her well alone.” Gabriel looked questioningly at his brother. Balthazar rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Castiel is in love with Dean Winchester, and look what happened to him. Lucifer is in love with Sam Winchester – no matter how strangely he may show it – and look at what happened there! My brothers need to stop fawning over these bloody Winchesters.” Gabe covered his eyes with his hands and shook his head  
“You don’t understand, if you could just meet her you would understand.” Balthazar downed his drink.   
“I highly doubt I would, I have no idea why you are all so obsessed with humans. They are incompetent, and stupid, and clumsy.”   
“They’re also not arrogant alcoholics who abandoned their home.” Gabriel said in a low voice. Balthazar laughed, and looked at Gabriel in surprise.  
“You can hardly speak, who do you think was my inspiration? Look, if this human is so bloody special, grow a set and tell her. It’s not difficult.” Gabriel studied his boots for a moment. They look dull and old against the shiny black leather couch.  
“What if she doesn’t want me?” Balthazar resisted the urge to groan. And groaned anyway.  
“Then, to quote that awful bloody movie, “My heart will go on” You’ll live.” He stood and sauntered over to the drinks cabinet to pour himself another drink.   
“But-“Gabriel began.   
“I’m sorry, if you don’t mind, you’ll have to leave now.” The hedonistic angel with perfectly mussed blonde hair looked at his brother apologetically. Gabriel narrowed his eyes.   
“Why? Is someone coming over? Are you going somewhere?” Balthazar shook his head.   
“No, I’m just so bloody bored of your conversation, I’d rather you weren’t here.” Gabriels mouth drew together in a thin line as he glared at the lesser being.   
“You arrogant, self centred bastard.” He snapped.   
“You pathetic love sick little puppy.” Balthazar shot back. He took a sip of his drink as Gabriel snapped his fingers. Gabriel disappeared.   
“Blithering idiot.” Balthazar said. Or tried to say. He had mysteriously lost his voice and merely mewled like a cat. 

Meanwhile you were sat on the porch swing with Crowley. He had dropped by to see how you were. You were leaning back with your legs folded underneath you. Your H/C hair was looking remarkable in the sunlight. You were wearing black skinny jeans that really had seen better days and a faded Guns N’ Roses tank top.   
“I’m fine, really, just getting used to the idea of it is all.” He nodded and poured you a drink.  
“I’m certainly pleased you’re not being overly dramatic darling. After your display the other day I was sure you’d be moping around for weeks.” You raised an eyebrow as you took a sip of the amber liquid. Crowley sighed and brushed non-existent dust from his pristine black suit. How did he manage to get his, suit, shirt, tie and shoes all the same shade of black? You were only wearing two pieces of black clothing and even those didn’t match. You wondered if his underwear was the same shade of black. You had a private fantasy that Crowley worse silky crimson red boxer shorts.   
“People die every day, what’s the point in getting so upset over one little death?” He shrugged and pulled out a cigarette.   
“You’re being insensitive and cruel.” You warned him, reaching over to pull one from the pack as well. You had a lot of time for Crowley. He didn’t beat around the bush, he was straightforward and easy to get along with. But there were time that you were forced to remember that he was, in fact, a demon. Make that the demon. He lit your cigarette and then his own.  
“Uh, King of Hell. Sensitivity and kindness aren’t really, what you would call, my strengths.” You had to smile. Crowley glanced at you. Your eyes were cast down as if you were studying your glass. Your hair obscured your face slightly but he could see the small smile on your lips. He felt a strange feeling twisting in his gut. He vaguely remembered that feeling as affection. This, this creature, had provided him with more entertainment than he would have expected from a human girl. She had a hard ass attitude but there was a vulnerability he wanted to protect.  
Crowley cleared his throat and took a drag of his cigarette.  
“Crowley, thank you.” You murmured. The King of Hell frowned.   
“Thank you? For what?” He scratched his stubble and looked at you in confusion. Your E/C eyes met his and he watched you smile.   
“For what? For being there with a drink that reminds me of home. For cooking me Haggis. For sitting with me and talking. I don’t think I would have adjusted as well without you.” The demon smirked at you.   
“You’re not getting sentimental for a demon are you?” You nudged him gently.   
“As if, you smell of rotten eggs.” Crowley laughed and you tapped your glass against his. You heard shouting from inside the bunker and rolled your eyes.   
“Who put four argumentative bastards in the same house? It was never going to end well.” You heaved a sigh and pushed yourself to your feet. You downed your whiskey in a mouthful. That was one of the things Crowley liked most about you. The way you drank. There was no fuss. You didn’t screw your face up or squeal like a child at how it burns. You savoured the taste. The burning sensation travelling down your throat and pooling in your chest was welcomed.   
You put out your cigarette and placed the glass down before walking into the bunker to see what the fuss was about. The shouting was coming from the library. The scene that greeted you made you internally sigh. Fucking men and their testosterone.   
Sam was, ineffectively, trying to stop Dean from attempting to strangle Gabriel. Who was also, rather unsuccessfully being held back by Cas. Bobby was in the middle shouting at them all. You leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms.   
“Can you bone-headed morons just calm down a minute?” Bobby hollered.   
“I’m going to rip off that son of a bitches head!” Dean thundered.   
“Dean calm down!” Sam tried.  
“Sure you are princess.” Gabriel said softly. He looked mad. His eyes had lost their sparkle. They were dark and they were murderous. You decided it was time to step in. You had seen enough bar fights to see where this was going.   
“Boys, calm the fuck down! What is going on?” You made your presence known and stepped into the middle with Bobby.   
“This winged mother fucker keeps popping in around here and I don’t like it! He fluttered in and tipped my chair over!” Dean cried, still trying to lunge for the Archangel.   
“It was an accident you big baby!” Gabriel made a face at your brother.   
“It was on purpose!” Sam shouted. You rolled your eyes again.   
“Gabriel.” You snapped. “Apologise to Dean.”  
“I didn’t do anything!” He whined. You looked him dead in the eye and arched an eyebrow. The angel looked to the floor before mumbling incoherently.   
“Louder please.” Your voice was stern and strict. Like that of a mother over squabbling bairns you thought with a brief smile.   
“I’m sorry.” Gabriel ground out. He glared at Dean.   
“If you think that’s gonna stop me-“   
“Dean!” You snapped. He looked at you like a petulant child. “Accept his apology and get over it.” His green eyes flashed and he looked back at Gabriel.   
“Fine.” He spat. He turned and set the chair upright before falling into it. Sam and Castiel both breathed a sigh of relief.   
“That’s what I was trying to do.” Bobby grumbled. You smiled sweetly at him.   
“You need a womans touch.”   
Sam smiled at you and pulled you in for a half hug before resuming his seat across from Dean.   
Castiel fidgeted nervously before coming over to you.   
“May I speak with you?” He asked in a low voice. You looked at him in surprise.   
“Of course Cas, c’mon we’ll take a walk.” You walked out of the room, but not before warning everyone to get along. You walked out into the sunshine with the angel in his trenchcoat. You wondered briefly if he felt cold or warm like you did.   
“No.” He murmured. You looked at him in shock. “We regulate at a slightly higher temperature than humans but we don’t feel ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ like humans do.” He explained.  
“Oh” You said softly. It was weird having a conversation with someone who could read your thoughts. “So what did you want to talk about?” Castiel sighed and put his arms behind his back.   
“I have a favour to ask of you.” He paused, taking in your facial expressions. You nodded at him to go on.   
“I need you to convince your brothers to let Gabriel stay at the bunker.” Your eyebrows flew up. After the spectacle you had just witnessed it would be no easy feat. Your brothers hated Gabriel, and he went out of his was to wind them up. It wouldn’t be easy at all.   
“I’ll try.” Castiel glanced at you, he didn’t think you would agree to it as readily.   
“On the basis that you’ll tell me how long you’ve been in love with Dean.” Your lips quirked into a grin. The awkward angel blushed. He stammered slightly and looked at you suspiciously. You shrugged. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to know if your suspicions were correct. Cas sighed.   
“I felt strange when I saw his soul in purgatory. The determination. The fight. The courage. When I got to know him as a person it was slightly…different. Dean is argumentative. And stubborn. And rude. But I could still see his soul. It’s one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed.” You resisted the urge to pull him in for a hug. He may have been a warrior of heaven. But he was also adorable.   
“You should tell him.” You said. He laughed harshly.   
“Dean likes pretty women.” You shook your head and looked up at the trees.   
“I’ve seen the way Dean looks at pretty women. He looks at them like trophies to be won. He appreciates them, sure, but he can’t remember their name the next morning. But I’ve seen the way the looks at you. Like you’re are the most special thing he’s ever seen. And when he says your name it’s the same way he says ‘home’. He’s in love with you, he just doesn’t know it yet.” Castiels blue eyes met your with so much hope that this time you did hug him. You wrapped your arms tightly around his middle and buried your face in his chest.   
“You are much wiser than your brothers.” You snorted.   
“No, I’m just slightly more in touch with feelings than them, haven’t quite been ruined by the world.” Yet. You thought. You knew it would come. It was only a matter of time. Castiel squeezed you tight before releasing you.   
“So, not only do I have to convince them to let Gabriel be our new flat mate, I also have to drag Dean out of the closet.” The angel frowned and looked at you oddly.   
“Out of the closet’? Is Dean stuck inside of a closet? Why would he be in a closet?” You covered your mouth with your hands to stifle your laughter.   
“Ask Dean.” You and the fallen angel headed back to the bunker.   
“When will you ask them about Gabriel?” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. A movement that Castiel noticed was similar in your brothers as well. You were similar to them. Your soul was as bright as Deans. It practically shone out of you. There was something about you that made everyone like you. If Gabriel and the Winchesters were going to coincide in peace, you were definitely going to have to be on hand to help.   
“I suppose now is as good a time as ever.”


	9. Home is where the heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9! Woo! Okay well I've been away a wee trip further up Scotland so I decided to mash it together with this chapter. Skipinnish are an AMAZING band from the Scottish Island of Tiree, and there's one by Dougie MacLean. I would defo recommend giving both of these songs a wee listen when you read this chapter. Let me know what you think! Love xx  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W1UwXase7yE  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLYJBU168QQ

Well that could have been worse. After a lot of protesting and sulking however, your brothers had relented. They weren't happy about it. But after you and Cas pleaded and swore to take responsibility for the Trickster, they had begrudgingly agreed.

Dean, of course, had been easier to persuade after you explained how much it would mean to Castiel. He clenched his jaw at you and looked at the Angel. Castiel's pleading eyes found Deans and you saw his resolve waver. They gazed at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"Get a room you guys." Sam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Dean blinked and glared at his brother.

"I'm, uh, going to clean my gun." He said, his voice deeper than normal. He left the room with Castiel following him like a distracted puppy. You watched them go with a smile on your face, shaking your head.

"They seriously need to get over themselves and just fuck." You said with a laugh.

"The sexual tension is making me feel nauseas." Sam agreed. He looked down at you with big hazel eyes. Sam always managed to make you feel small. And safe. He would recommend books to you. Books you had never heard of before. You in turn had a list of books he hadn't seen. Between Scottish and American literature you had grown quite the collection. You were doing your best to learn more about American history. All you knew about was British and Scottish history, which was very different. You tried to explain to your brothers, on more than one occasion, that America wasn't the whole world.

You tried to tell them about Scotland, about the fact it was more than just kilts and bagpipes. That there was a whole culture, a magical history to the land, that the people where more than just ginger alcoholics. But they hadn't yet got tired of you saying "Curly Wurly" and putting on the worst Scottish accents ever.

Sam was looking at you oddly.

"What?" you asked, flopping down onto the couch.

"I get why Cas wants Gabriel to stay here, but what's your reason?" He folded his tall frame into the chair opposite you.

"I'm just helping Cas out." Sam looked at you with his eyebrows raised.

"You sure that's the only reason?" You looked at him in surprise, a slight frown forming. Of course it was. Sure, you liked Gabriel. He was funny, and mischievous, and a flirt. He was handsome as hell, and his eyes…

"Oh fuck" You groaned and threw your hands over your face.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked. You sat up abruptly and looked at him desperately.

"I think I have a crush on that stupid angel!" Sam burst out laughing, a row of perfectly white teeth shone as his laughter boomed around the room.

"I knew it!" He cried triumphantly. You narrowed your eyes and glared at him.

"Sam, this is terrible! What if I catch-" You screwed your face up in disgust "Feelings?" Sam shook his head at you, still chuckling.

"You sound like Crowley." You grabbed a pillow and threw it at his head, narrowly missing him.

"Are you gonnae no? Fuck. This is terrible." Sam looked at you, clearly bemused at the situation.

"What's so wrong with having a little crush? Apart from the fact it's on the most douchebag Angel you could find." You waved your hands around erratically.

"Because! Reasons!" You said lamely. "I'm a human and he's an angel. Even worse; he's an archangel. And I don't bloody do feelings and emotions and relationship shite. And-" You trailed off as you thought of something else.

"What is it now?" You were very still and tense on the couch. Your H/C hair had fallen in front of your face and Sam could see you nibbling your lower lip. Your bright E/C eyes found his and he could see the worry in them.

"Cas can read my mind right, that means Gabriel can as well!" Sam made a face that made you see exactly why Crowley nicknamed him 'Moose'.

"So?"

"So!?" You cried incredulously leaping up from your seat. You started pacing in front of him. "So he's going to start living here, all he has to do is read my mind to find out!" Sam rolled his eyes and you fought the urge to punch him in the face. This was a matter for a girl. A girl like Katie. You felt your breath escape you. Your throat closed as you felt the urge to scream. How many times had you and your best friend talked about boys growing up? About the troubles of life? Whenever anything was wrong you would phone her and head over. She'd pour a glass of wine. You would rant. She would usually laugh and then you would solve your issue. Then you would both get incredibly drunk.

Sam stood up and waggled his eyebrows.

"You never know, he might like you." You grabbed another pillow and launched it towards him. Due to the height difference you managed to deliver a swift uppercut.

"Ow!" He complained.

"I'm going to my room." You said quietly. You weren't mad at Sam. It was good to have someone to talk to. But it wasn't the same as Katie. It never would be. And you weren't okay with that. Sam caught onto your wrist. His hand was warm, you in contrast, always had cold hands and feet.

"Don't worry about it too much okay? I once had a crush on a demon and kick started the apocalypse." You had to smile at that.

"Thanks." You murmured before dragging yourself to your room.

You sat on your bed with your laptop open in front of you. You were looking through photo's of you and Katie. It wasn't productive and made you feel sad, but you had to do it. To top it all off you had your favourite band Skipinnish playing which was making you miss your bonny wee country more than ever.

You had missed the funeral. Nobody would have missed you but it felt wrong to not be able to say goodbye. As you flicked through more pictures you suddenly laughed. It was a photo of both of you in wedding dresses. That day you had both went to the city to do some shopping shortly after she had got engaged. In a spur of the moment you had went into a bridal shop and danced around wearing beautiful white dresses you couldn't afford.

A soft knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.

"Come in." You called. The door opened slowly to reveal Gabriel standing there.

"Hey angel." You scooted over on your bed to make room for him.

"Hey cupcake." He said softly. He saw that you had been crying, tears were still wet on your cheeks. There was music playing that sounded like you. He couldn't describe why, but the Scottish melody fitted you perfectly. He walked cautiously over to you and sat on the edge of your bed. He glanced at the laptop screen and saw a picture of you and another girl laughing in white dresses.

"Are those…wedding dresses?" He asked, confused. You smiled and nodded.

"We decided to try some on, Katie wanted to find some inspiration for her wedding." He studied you carefully.

"Was Katie the friend that…" He trailed off and an uncomfortable silence surrounded you both. You nodded and sighed.

"I missed her funeral. I shouldn't have. I should have been there." You said sadly. Gabriel frowned. He didn't like seeing you like this.

"Hold my hand." He said suddenly. You quirked an eyebrow at him but did as he asked. You reached your hand out and placed it inside his bigger warm one.

"You've got cold hands princess." You smiled slightly, he leaned towards you and you felt your heart start thudding in your chest. The smell of Caramel radiated from his and you closed your eyes.

"Hold on." He murmured. You felt your stomach drop and the ground slip away. You vaguely recall the sensation from when Cas transported you here. You clung to Gabriels hand and he squeezed it gently. Suddenly you were on solid ground again. You opened your eyes in shock and nearly tripped over.

Gabriel and you were standing in a graveyard. It was beautiful. Though the sun was shining there was a chill in the air. You took a deep breath and suddenly knew where you were. You whipped around and took in your surroundings. Rolling green hills and in the distance the mountains stood proud and tall.

"Scotland." You sighed softly. The graveyard was the one from your hometown. A few miles from the town. It was surrounded only by countryside and fields. The graves stood neatly in the sunshine, trees were growing tall and strong, you heard birds overhead chattering to one another. You spun slowly in circles taking in your homeland. Gabriel watched you silently. He could see why you adored this place. It was true what his Father had said about Scotland. It was one of the most perfect places he had created. And this girl belonged here. Gabriel could see that. The chill in the air, the wildness of the country, the free spirt. It summed you up. He felt sad that you had been pulled away from somewhere you clearly belonged.

You started walking between the graves, your feet instinctively taking you to the part of the graveyard that was new. Where the spaces were. And you found what you were looking for.

Katie Small.  
Beloved Daughter,  
Fiance and Friend.  
Sleep Tight Angel.  
1994 – 2016

You had to smile at the irony. You saw the flowers and cards from her family and friends. You felt a pang of guilt at the fact you hadn't brought anything. Lilly's. Lilly's were her favourite.

You heard Gabriel shuffle behind you and turned to see he had produced a huge bunch of flowers from seemingly nowhere. They were the biggest most gorgeous bunch of Lilly's you had ever seen

"How did you-?" You asked in amazement. He smiled down at you.

"Archangel remember? And these flowers won't ever wilt. They'll stay perfect forever." He held them out to you. The colours were amazing, nothing like anything you had ever seen before. Katie would have loved them. You smiled up at him over the flowers. It's true the flowers were beautiful. But Gabriel didn't think they could hold a candle to the colour of your eyes.

"Thankyou." You said quietly. You turned back to Katie's grave and lay the flowers down. You soon followed and sat down on the grass, folding your legs beneath you and fiddling with the short grass.

"Hey chick, it's me. I don't know why I'm talking to your gravestone. I miss you Katie. I've never had a friend like you. If only I could tell you about my new life in America. I told you about my brothers but I didn't tell you everything. I have a family now. A proper one. And I started running. And I met an Archangel and the King of Hell. They're pretty cool. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I couldn't have stopped it if I was, I just feel it would make a difference. Sorry I missed your funeral too. That kind of blows. You shouldn't have died. You are such a good person, better than me. You are always there for me and I wasn't here for you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You were crying again. Slowly. Gently. The cool breeze was stroking your cheeks. Even though you were sat in the sunshine you still felt cold. You glanced around, embarrassed. You hadn't intended to give such an emotional spiel. You saw Gabriel standing on the other side of the graveyard. Thankful that he had moved away. You sighed heavily. You brushed your fingers across your face and cursed yourself for getting upset.

"Bye Katie" You whispered before getting to your feet. You wandered over to the Archangel who was sitting on one of the old fashioned Victorian tombs. When he smiled at you it was brighter than the sun and warmed you inside. You couldn't help but smile back at him.

"You ready to go kiddo?" His eyes twinkled. Your heart dropped. Kiddo? Fucking Kiddo? He thought you were a child. Of course he did. He was older than time itself. You were a 21 year old human. Fuck. He was only being nice.

"Could you take me one more place?" You asked hesitantly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Sure can. Where did you have in mind?" You smiled brightly and told him. He clasped your hand again and the graveyard slipped away. When you opened your eyes again you were in your favourite place.

Mountains where on either side of you stretching up to reach the sky. Rough, rugged land reached into the horizon. Small winding roads led up into the summits and your spirits lifted with them. Glencoe mountain range. You would drive here just to park up and wander in these hills. Waterfall after waterfall cascaded down the steep hills pooling at the bottom before joining into a rushing river. Dark and majestic these mountains dominate the valley through the glen. You knew them like the back of your hand.  
You had walked over the same hills that Highland warriors and Jacobite armies had in the centuries before. The history and feeling of belonging sent a shiver down your spine. Your mother had told you that your ancestors had been born here. Your blood may have been part Winchester, but it was also part MacDonald. These mountains stood high in defiance of tyranny, symbols of rebellion and freedom. This land was haunting and beautiful. Steeped in mystery and magic. You looked over at Gabriel. But he was too busy staring at wonder at the scenery.

"Beautiful isn't it?" You said quietly, not wanting to ruin the peace you had found.

"I've seen beautiful places, this is more. I can feel it in the Earth. There's blood in these hills. So much has happened here." He said, still staring up at the mountains. He suddenly turned to face you.

"If I had breathe it might have taken it away." He said with a wink. You laughed and started walking towards one special hill.

"I scattered my mums ashes here." You said with a smile. Time had healed you, though it still hurt sometimes to think of her you would come here and feel her on the wind, or in the bracken beneath your feet, you would see her in the wild mountain heather. It brought you peace.

"I was going to save my money." You went on. "Open up my own tavern here. I'd have my morning coffee looking out at this. Or take trips over to Skye. Or up to Loch Ness." Gabriel said nothing but he understood.

He'd watched the world be created and slowly destroyed. He'd seen Empires rise and fall. He'd seen the ruin of countless wars. And here in this Glen it was untouched by time, save for simple roads leading up into the mountains. He almost felt young again under the mountains shadow. Because under the Trickster demeanour Gabriel felt very old. And very lost. He'd watched his world fall apart over and over again. He'd fought too many times. He was tired of fighting. Was it too much to ask to find some peace?

"Why did you leave?" He asked suddenly. His voice so serious it made you glance at him in surprise.

"Because Sam and Dean are my family. And come what may with the angels and fighting and all, I'll still have this place to look back on. It can't be ruined for me. And if I manage to make it out of all of this okay, maybe I'll come back here and open up that Tavern. Sam and Dean can come on holidays. Or try and hunt Nessie." Gabriel laughed.  
You took a deep breath and looked around you for what you hoped wouldn't be the last time. He watched you standing there, staring into the lowered sun. The green and purple hills surrounded you with your H/C hair blowing gently across your face. You were wearing brown leather boots and faded black jeans. You had a red tartan flannel shirt on. Gabriel thought you looked like a warrior. And just when he thought he'd stopped falling for you, you turned to face him and smiled. The freckles on you face danced and your eyes lit up. He wanted to pause time and look at you for hours.

"I'm ready to go." You accent, which sounded so foreign in the bunker, perfectly matched the hills around you. The lilting voice was one that belonged here. So much so that he almost didn't want to take you back. It was like taking a wild bird and putting it in a cage. He wanted to see you run through the hills, and drink your coffee in the mornings with the mist rolling around you. He coughed.

"Right." He took your small cold hand in his and took you back to the bunker. You arrived back in your bedroom just as you had left it.

"Thankyou for taking me." You said warmly. You felt more at peace now you had got the chance to say goodbye.

"Had to pay you back for convincing your moronic brothers to let me stay." If he had slapped you across the face it would have been a softer blow. Just a favour for a favour. Gabriel cursed himself for making out as though it was nothing.

"Okay then, well thanks, I guess we're square now." Your voice was flat, you smiled but your eyes didn't smile back. The Archangel stood in the doorway awkwardly. You turned your back on him and walked over to your bed. You picked up your headphones and slid them over your ears. You glanced at the doorway to find it empty. Good. You were angry and hurt with the idiot angel. Although you really shouldn't have expected anything else. Stupid emotions. Stupid crush.

"Stupid girl." You whispered fiercely. "He doesn't care." And for the first time that day when the tears built up in your throat and stung at your eyes you refused to let them fall. You turned up your music and went on your blog. Hours could be spent just trailing through the sea of pictures and gifs. You didn't have to think and that was exactly what you needed.


	10. Bad Bogles and Bad Temper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10! Mentions of Harry Potter and Cap America in this one. Which House do you think the boys would be in? Reader is pissed at Gabriel (even if he hasn't done anything) and the boys are protective as ever. Thank you to everyone who has followed/reviewed/kudos'd. Love xx

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. The sunlight was streaming in through your window, you were comfy and warm. You stretched out like a lioness, deliciously content.  
“Coffee darling?” You yelped in surprise and pulled the covers closer to you out of instinct.  
“Crowley, what the hell are you doing?” You hissed. The King of Hell was perched on the side of your bed holding a mug of coffee out to you.  
“I thought I’d drop by and have a fag and a chat, only to be told that you were still in bed.” The Demon explained. You past your hand over your face.  
“Crowley, it’s not normal to sit and wait for people to wake up.” You took the hot mug and sat up gingerly.  
“If you want normal princess, you’re in the wrong place.” You couldn’t argue with that. You took a sip of coffee and nearly choked.  
“Is there Whiskey in this?” You cried. Crowley shrugged his shoulders.  
“It’s 12 o clock somewhere.” You rolled your eyes and set the cup down.  
“What did you want to talk about?” Crowley looked mildly uncomfortable as he shifted on the bed.  
“I have a minute problem that I may need Moose and Squirrels help with.” Your eyebrows flew up in surprise. Crowley didn’t usually ask for help.  
“Okay, what is it?” The King of Hell sighed heavily.  
“I have a Boggart in my house and I need to get rid of it.” You frowned.  
“A Boggart? As in, Harry Potter style Boggart?” Crowley rolled his eyes and growled in exasperation.  
“No, not as in “Harry bloody Potter” As in a Bogle, generally causes mischief and pisses me off.” You covered your mouth to stop from laughing. Your mother had told you stories of Bogles. They were uncontrollable and destructive. Even if you moved it would follow. It would climb into bed with you at night and press clammy hands over your face and try to smother you in your sleep.  
“You’re telling me the King of Hell canny deal with a wee Bogle?” You teased. Crowley glared at you.  
“You didn’t name it did you?” You asked. But you knew the answer. Of course he had.  
“It seems to have taken offence to the nickname Hackit Howlin Scabby wee Bastard.” You snorted, unable to contain your laughter anymore.  
“Not only have you named it but you also offended it in one foul swoop.” You summarised. Bogles were a type of spirit. Folklore was never certain if it was a type of Silkie or Brownie or if it was more of a Hob Goblin. They were said to haunt folk, and devour lost wanderers. When you were younger you used to think that you could hear a Bogle screaming in the wind and refused to go into the woods without your mother in fear that a Bogle would catch you and eat you.  
“I always thought Bogles were just stories that my mother told us to scare us.” Crowley said softly, thinking the same as you.  
“Right, well. Better sort out your Bogle problem.” You said with a wink. You got out of bed and pulled on some fluffy socks. Crowley eyed you appreciatively. You had a Metallica T shirt on and a pair of shorts. Your hair was mussed and you still had a sleepy sort of glow. You walked over to your door and threw it open. You looked over your shoulder at the Demon .  
“Coming?” You asked. Crowley got up and smiled lecherously at you.  
“I like to be bought dinner first.” You rolled your eyes and stalked into the kitchen. Bobby, Sam, Dean and Castiel were there. You wondered briefly where the moronic Archangel was but didn’t dwell on it.  
“Boys, you’ve got a case.” Castiel and Dean looked from you to Crowley in confusion.  
“What do you mean?” Sam asked. He looked up from his laptop, his fingers paused in mid-type.  
“Crowley here has himself a Boggart problem.”  
“A what?” Dean asked.  
“A Boggart, a Bogle. Whatever. It’s his problem and you need to hunt it.” You explained briefly, moving over to the kettle to make a non-alcoholic coffee. Castiel frowned.  
“Boggarts are referred to in Harry Potter.” Everyone turned to look at Cas in shock.  
“I’m sorry, what? You know about Harry Potter?” Dean exclaimed. Castiel nodded.  
“It was on the tv. It’s a school where magical beings go to learn how to use magic responsibly. It’s very interesting. Although not everything they said was correct. I’m not sure it’s very factual.” He said seriously. You began giggling.  
“Harry Potter is fictitious Cas. It’s not real.” Sam explained with a soft smile. Cas frowned and looked to Dean for confirmation. Dean shrugged.  
“Sorry buddy, it’s not real.” Cas looked to the floor in disappointment and confusion.  
“It’s okay Cas, I used to think it was real too. I was so upset when I didn’t get my Hogwarts letter.” You said gently. His bright blue eyes met yours across the kitchen and he smiled gratefully at you. Sometimes the boys treated Cas like he was an idiot. He reminded you of Steve Rogers after he had just woke up from being frozen. He was incredibly powerful and could wipe out Scotland with a swipe of his hand. But he was also a precious baby who you needed to look after.  
“Whether Harry Fucking Potter is real or not, is hardly the bloody issue here. I have a Bogle in my house making my life hell!” Crowley thundered.  
“Well that’s ironic, I’m sorry your highness but a Bogle isn’t exactly top priority stuff.” Bobby said snidely.  
“Wait a minute, It could be a good practise run for Y/N.” Dean said looking at you curiously. You could see Sam nodding thoughtfully.  
“You could do the research on the folklore, figure out how to kill it, and then you could try out your first hunt. We’d be on hand just in case of course.” Sam explained. You eyed them both in consideration. It would give you something to do.  
“Okay, I’ll do it.”  
“What are you doing?” Gabriel flounced into the kitchen with a red lollipop in his mouth. You tried not to glare at him, he hadn’t done anything wrong, technically. Just hurt your feelings without meaning to.  
“Nothing.” You said quickly. Gabriel stared at you from across the kitchen, your creamy legs captivated his attention for a moment, he longed to run his hands up and down your thighs. You were so utterly beautiful. And Gabriel knew your looks were the least interesting things about you. His father had made the heavens, the earth, the seas. Countless galaxies and scenery that could make a person cry. But none could take steal his breath like the sight of you.  
“Nothing sounds like something.” He said after a beat. He tilted his head and looked at you pulling the lolly from his mouth with an obscene pop. You rolled your eyes.  
“It’s nothing.” You said. You stirred two sugars into your coffee and turned to go to your room.  
“I’m going to get dressed.” The men gathered in the kitchen watched you go in confusion.  
“What’s up with her?” Dean asked, looking to Sam. Sam sighed heavily and swept his majestic mane of hair back from his face.  
“How the hell should I know?”  
“She was fine until feather boy showed up.” Crowley eyed Gabriel in disdain. Gabriel frowned and clutched his chest dramatically.  
“Feather boy? Oh how hurtful. Points for being original. Not. I would have expected something a little more creative from you, you abomination.” Bobby closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation.  
“He’s right actually, she was fine until you walked in, what have you done?” Dean demanded. Noone upset his little sister. Especially not this fucking tool. Gabriel held his hands up in defence to the 5 men that were now glaring at him dangerously. Even he didn’t relish the thought of having to take on Crowley, Castiel, the Winchester duo and their adopted father.  
“I haven’t done a thing! I’m perfectly innocent. Stop looking at me like I just killed your parents! Oh, eh, woops. That just kinda came out.” Sam and Dean flew out of their chairs and rushed over to the Trickster. He disappeared.  
“I mean it – I’m sorry, it’s a turn of phrase!” They lunged for him again and once again the Archangel slipped from their reach. He reappeared on top of the table.  
“I’m going to see if Y/K is okay.” He said slowly, as if talking to a small child.  
“No.” Sam said firmly. “I’m going to talk to her, you stay as far away from her as possible until I make sure you’re not the one responsible for her mood change.” Gabriel huffed and stuck his tongue out, It was dyed red from the lolly. Sam just sighed and looked to the ceiling before stomping out of the room.  
“I miss living alone.” Bobby muttered under his breath.  
Sam knocked on your door. If that stupid angel had upset you in any way he was going to wring its neck. The door swung open unexpectedly and you stood looking up at him. You were dressed in black leggings and a plain white top that had “Made in Scotland” written across the front of it. You smiled brightly up at him and moved away from the door so he could come in. He saw your laptop open on your bed.  
“What are you doing?” He asked.  
“Booking plane tickets home.” You said. Sam’s jaw went slack. What? Why? No. It wasn’t safe. He closed his mouth and opened it again to speak when he saw you wink.  
“Relax, it’s just research.” You said with a grin. “You’re not getting rid of me yet.” You turned the laptop so he could see. You had only just started but he could see you were on the right track.  
“Looking good.” He murmured as he shifted through the brief notes you’d started making. Bobby had taught you well. Sam suggested some more sites for you to try and reeled off a list of books that might help. You noted down everything he said with excitement building in your stomach. This was your first proper case. You didn’t want to mess it up and were determined to do everything just right.  
“So what’s going on between you and Gabriel? You didn’t seem overjoyed to see him.” Sam was sprawled across the bottom of your bed and your feet were resting on him. You sighed and played with a strand of your hair.  
“It’s not his fault.” You began.  
“I knew that assehole had done something you just wait till I get hold of him!” Sam exclaimed, his expression was thunderous. You held your hands up.  
“Wait! Wait, he hasn’t done anything! Its just yesterday it became apparent that he doesn’t think of me anything more than a child. He was only being nice to me because I convinced you and Dean to let him stay. He’s never going to like me back.” You said miserably. Sam’s expression changed and he looked at you through his big soft eyes.  
“Oh Y/N, he’s not worth getting upset about. He’s an assehole. Has been for Centuries.” You laughed and drew your legs up underneath you.  
“I know, it’s stupid to get upset about and he hasn’t done anything. I’m angry at myself for thinking he would want to be with me.” Sam sat up abruptly and looked you straight in the eye.  
“Listen here, that feathery twat would be lucky to ever have someone like you care for him. You’re too good for him Y/N, not the other way around. For god’s sake don’t ever let Dean hear you talking like that.” You smiled up at Sam, thankful for maybe the millionth time that your brothers had found you. Apart from your mother you’d never had anyone lookout for you and protect you. That had always been down to you. And now you had two brothers who would be willing to try and fight an Archangel if he hurt you.  
“Thanks Sammy.”  
After making sure you were okay Sam left you to do research. He was still mildly tempted to tear Gabriel a new one but he didn’t think you would appreciate that. He strolled into the library to find Dean, Cas and Gabriel in there. Dean and Cas were having a debate over which Hogwarts house was the best. Dean was positive that it was Slytherin whilst Castiel was determined that Hufflepuff was by far superior.  
“Slytherin is obviously the best, they’re badass, and they get stuff done! They’re brave, and loyal to each other. They use their smarts to get their own way.” Dean exclaimed. Castiel shook his head.  
“When I was watching the documentaries it was those in Hufflepuff who proved themselves the best. Their shield has a Badger on it, which I am led to believe is one of the most fearsome creatures in the UK. They have all of the traits of the other houses, loyalty, bravery, intelligence and cunning. They just don’t let it define who they are.” Dean started another counter argument and Sam rolled his eyes.  
“Sure, I’m the dork.” Gabriel had been hiding in the corner and sauntered over to him.  
“I’m sorry Samzilla Moose, but I think you’re more of a Ravenclaw.” Sam huffed through clenched teeth. He wasn’t going to punch Gabriel. He was not going to punch Gabriel. He was not –  
“Shut up Gabriel.”  
“Ooooooh, touchy little giant aren’t we today? Why? Did you want to be in Gryffindor?” Gabriel pouted up at Sam. Sam’s resolve not to physically harm the Archangel nearly wavered but you walked into the room. You had come to fetch some of the books that Sam had suggested.  
“Are you less moody now?” Gabriel teased. You lifted your lip into a snarl.  
“Back off Gabriel.” You said. You didn’t want to deal with him today. He made a face.  
“What, is it your time of the month or something?” That done it. You snapped. You whirled around and threw the book you were holding at him. Dean and Castiel looked up from their debate. The book would have hit him had he not deflected it with ease. It distracted him enough for you to fly at him and shove him up against the wall. You knew fine well that if he wanted to he could push you away like a ragdoll, but he didn’t. He just stood there, with your forearm across his throat and the shelf behind him digging into his back.  
“Listen here you childish fucking moron.” You hissed. Your eyes were flashing with rage and hurt. Gabriel’s amber eyes widened in confusion and shock. “I am not on my period. That’s what it’s called. Every god damn woman gets them and I would have thought that after being around women for centuries you would have at least grown accustomed to the idea of bodily functions. My moods and attitudes have nothing to do with whether or not I’m menstruating. Listen to me carefully. I am pissed off because I have the divine fucking right to be pissed off. Now leave me the fuck alone.” You released your hold on him, turned and stormed out of the room, without even stopping to retrieve the books you had come for in the first place.  
Gabriel stayed against the wall.  
“Scottish chicks are scary.” Dean said, looking out of the door after you. He turned towards Sam with a huge grin on his face.  
“Our sister is fucking badass.” Castiel was frowning heavily. Your behaviour was out of character. Gabriel was still against the wall, staring after you in confusion. What had made you that mad? He hadn’t meant to upset you. He felt there was more to your reaction than his joke about your mood. He didn’t know whether to go after you or stay away from you. He looked to Sam who was staring at him with mild amusement.  
“What did I do?” He asked. He was vaguely aware of Dean laughing at him and telling him he shouldn’t mess with Winchesters. He ignored the eldest Winchester. Sam sighed.  
“Nothing you could understand.” He told him.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gabriel demanded. What couldn’t he understand? He was older than everyone here put together. Sam sighed again.  
“Just leave her alone Gabriel.” It wasn’t like he’d hurt Y/N. He wouldn’t want to upset her. Quite the opposite in fact. The Archangel frowned and disappeared.  
You were cooling off on the porch with a cigarette when Bobby came out.  
“Hey kid, what’s up? I heard the stunt you pulled with that feathery douchebag. Nice work by the way.” A brief smile passed your lips and you crushed out your cigarette.  
“He’s just a twat.” Bobby huffed and took a seat, he swiped his cap from his head and replaced it.  
“Of course he is. Most angels are. Even Cas gets his head stuck up his own arse sometimes. But I get the feelin that’s not what this is about.” You glanced at Bobby. His green eyes were fixed on yours and you realised he knew anyway. You swore.  
“I have a crush on that moron and quickly realised that it would never work. I suppose I didn’t handle it too well.” You collapsed down next to him and stared up at a crack in the wall. Bobby kept his eyes on you.  
“Well kid, you’re from a long line of people who don’t handle things very well. In fact, you’re from a long line of people who have a habit of reacting the way you just did. And you’re Scottish. Scots are meant to be violent, bad tempered and foul mouthed ain’t they?” He asked. You chuckled. That sounded about right. But you felt bad about lashing out so unnecessarily.  
“If you’re feelin bad you can always apologise. But in my opinion that arsey angel could get taken down a peg or two anyway.” You smiled as he patted your arm awkwardly.  
“Balls.” Bobby cursed. You looked at him in surprise. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m just not much good at this stuff. I’ve only ever had them boys to look out for and they don’t do much talkin. Guess you could be doin with some female company right about now.” You lay your head on his shoulder.  
“You did great Bobby, thank you.” Bobby hugged you briefly before heading back inside. He left you sitting on the porch staring out into the American wilderness, wondering what you could do to say sorry. Gabriel was just Gabriel, you couldn’t be angry at him for that. Truth is you were angry at yourself for not coming to terms with it. You pulled out another cigarette. You placed the white tip in between your lips and dragged a match down the wall. The tip glowed orange and the smoke started to rise as you inhaled. You tossed the match.  
“Fuck it.” You muttered.


	11. Tea and Ice cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and you make friends :) This is kinda fluffy this one to make up for the lack of fluff in the past couple of chapters. Let me know what you think! Love xx

For the rest of the week you pretty much just stayed in your room researching Bogles. Sam and Dean kept a close eye on you as you carried out your research, pointing you in the right directions. Gabriel, when he was there, stayed in the room he and Castiel shared. Your research was coming along well but you felt miserable at the riff that you had caused.

You were supping from your coffee, maybe the 20th one you'd had that day. Your laptop was open in front of you and your legs were crossed. You were wearing some old leggings and a batman t-shirt. Your hair was piled on top of your head in a messy bun. It wasn't your cutest outfit but it was one of the comfiest.

To be honest it wasn't going to be difficult to kill the Bogle. It was a form of Goblin. Chopping its head off would probably do the trick. However, catching it to kill it may be a different story. They were nasty little creatures that, in between causing mischief and attempting to devour children, could also predict your worst fears and use them against you. You didn't want to get there and freeze up because your German teacher was demanding an essay from you. Not that that was your worst fear. Far from it. But it was up there. Along with another alcohol prohibition and a ban on chocolate.

You yawned and stretched until your arms popped, your weary eyes flickering down to the time. 03:26. When had that happened? You realised just how tired you were. You felt exhausted and drained. Your eyes were scratching in their sockets and it felt as rough as sandpaper each time you blinked. With a lot of effort you stood up. A cup of tea for bed. That sounded perfect just now. You knew nobody else was up. Bobby would be sleeping in front of the TV no doubt and the boys were away for a day or two on a hunt with Cas. You had been left with strict instructions not to try and kill the Bogle yourself. You didn't think it would present that much of a problem but you agreed to wait until they came home.

"Just to be safe." Sam had said as he pulled you in for a hug before they left. You smiled into his chest.

"Sure thing Sammy."

"And you have any trouble with that assehole you call us okay?" Dean said, meaning the archangel. You had nodded and wished them good luck as they left.

As you stumbled into the kitchen you realised that Gabriel, if he was here, would be awake. With no one else around it could be the perfect time for you to apologise and set things straight. While you made your cup of tea you mulled it over in your mind. It couldn't hurt to try. Worst case scenario he never talks to you again.

You quietly padded to his bedroom door and raised your hand to knock. You hesitated. What if he had a woman in there? It was no secret Gabriel loved two things. Sweets and hot girls. Maybe he wasn't there. Maybe he was off to wherever he went when he disappeared. You held your breathe and softly rapped your knuckles. You found yourself hoping he wasn't there. Your hands were sweating. And your throat was dry. The door opened and suddenly he was standing in front of you. He was wearing a white t shirt and dark jeans with no socks on. He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed. You looked up into his whiskey gaze and found yourself unable to breathe.

"What's wrong?" He asked. His voice was smooth and deep and sent shivers racing across your body. You found yourself wishing that you were wearing something cuter. That you had done your makeup. Sprayed on some perfume. Anything.

"Has something happened to Sam and Dean-o?" He asked when you didn't reply. Oh god his eyes. You felt like you were drowning in the different hazes of brown and gold. Your breath found you at last and it came out heavy.

"Nothing's wrong." You stammered quietly. "I just wanted to talk." Gabriel looked down at you. What you were doing awake at this time he had no idea. He had heard you walk past his door and make the tea you were now clutching in your hands. He had heard you come quietly to his door. When he heard you pause in front of it he had held the breath he didn't need. He wished he had come to talk to you but he was a coward. He heard you knock. He listened to your heartbeat thudding in your chest. Before he walked across the room to open the door. Your fragile little heart beat seemed to stop when he swung the door open, but there it was again, thudding on. Your gorgeous hair was tumbled on top of your head with tendrils hanging around your face. Your big sleepy eyes had dark circles underneath them. After trying to avoid you as best he could this week he found that your sudden closeness was overwhelming. The archangel didn't know of anything that could look so beautiful at half past three in the morning.

"Sure thing sugar." He murmured, opening the door and standing back so you could come in. Self-consciously you walked forwards into his room. It was, like all of the bunker rooms, a simple and small place. There was a bed in the corner that was untouched. Neither he nor Castiel slept so it didn't get used. There was a lamp on in the corner and a few books scattered here and there. And the bin was overflowing with sweet wrappers. Apart from that it was very similar to your room. You sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and Gabriel fell into a chair.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, not looking at you but studying his brown leather boots. You stared down at your tea.

"I wanted to say sorry for the way I behaved. It was unfair to lash out at you and say those things. I wanted to say sorry for treating you so coldly after you had taken me back to Scotland. I feel awful about it and I just want us to be friends again. I can't stand walking around and having you hate me." Your gaze remained fixed on you tea, feeling the warm steam reach up and caress your face. Gabriels however, moved to stare at you. In the glow of the lamp your skin was pale and glowing making you look almost ethereal. Your downcast eyes upset him. It should have been him apologising. He felt guilty and cowardly.

He would never admit it, but you, this girl in front of him, terrified him. You were beautiful in such a way that only the clenching feeling in his chest and the rolling in his stomach could explain. You were like the ice cold winds in January that cut at his cheeks and chilled him to the bone. Your touch was like red flames that left him choking on smoke. Your eyes reminded him of a childish innocence and deep secrets. You presented a challenge for him. Not to be overcome but to be understood. For you didn't see him how the others saw him. You saw something more, more than a coward and more than a trickster. Even he couldn't understand what you saw in him. Your eyes held in them the ability to understand even the darkest parts of this life. And he was terrified. That he would never be able to show you just how you made him feel.

Gabriel brought his legs to the floor and moved towards you slightly.

"Hey, hey." He said softly. "Look at me cupcake." You lifted your E/C eyes to meet his and felt goosebumps race across your skin.

"You don't have to apologise for a damned thing. I didn't mean to upset you the other day, I was advised by your idiot brother to leave you alone for a while. But I don't hate you, how could I? I should have come and said sorry to you but I'm a coward. Too much of a scardy-angel to say sorry to a gorgeous gal. Of course we can be friends, I never stopped being your friend sugar. You're my favourite human" You smiled up at him. Delight and relief washed over your face and he smirked.

"That's better, I missed that smile." You blushed prettily and brought your tea to your lips.

"What are you doing awake at this time anyway?" Gabriel asked. He watched you as you relaxed, the tension leaving your body.

"I was doing research and didn't realise quite how late it had gotten." You explained. You stifled a yawn and shook your head. "I don't much like sleep anyway." Gabriel frowned.

"What do you mean?" You shrugged and sipped at more of your tea.

"You know when you're just so exhausted that sleep seems impossible? When you know you need it but it just doesn't come so you lie there awake for hours staring at the ceiling. Your mind goes into overdrive but you can't just… fall asleep. And then sometimes, when everyone is asleep and you're not, your mind just kind of stops thinking all of a sudden. And you become really aware of the silence. You can hear your own heart. Seconds ticking by you. And you still can't sleep." You stopped rambling for a second. What were you doing talking about sleep with an archangel? He doesn't sleep. You closed your eyes and shook your head. What an idiot. You opened them again and Gabriel was looking at you with a smirk on your face.

"Maybe you just need someone to tire you out before bed." He said with a wink. You rolled your eyes and laughed.

"If I ever want to try that remind me to give Crowley a call." The archangel stopped smirking and frowned. Crowley? Fucking Crowley? He made a face.

"You like Crowley?" he said disbelievingly. He saw you bite your lip and look at him through your lashes.

"No you idiot. But I'm not denying he would probably be good in bed." Gabriel rolled his eyes again in mock disgust.

"P-lease, I'd be much better in bed than that devil-wannabe demon. Or anyone in this bunker for that matter." You cocked an eyebrow at the archangel.

"I don't know like, Castiel has potential, there's something about him that is seriously hot." Gabriel laughed incredulously.

"The gay virgin Mary who's in love with your big brother?" You shrugged and smiled wickedly.

"Maybe gay virgins are my thing." Gabriel shook his head, his golden hair bounced around his face.

"That's not your thing." He said confidently. He felt like he was in control. Several millenniums worth of experience in flirting had taught him a thing or two about woman.

"What is my thing?" You asked dangerously, biting your bottom lip. It was an action so innocent yet so provocative that Gabriel actually hesitated. He leaned towards you, his face so close to yours that you could smell the sweetness of his breath.

"You like to be taken care of, and taken control of." He murmured. "You like to be worshipped. You like someone to treasure every part of your skin. You like someone who can fulfil your needs. Someone who you can pleasure back. Your "thing" is a man who can take you away from everything and make you exist only in that moment." Your mouth was dry and you stared into his eyes which had darkened considerably. You felt a warm wetness pool between your thighs and you ached to touch him. Have his fists in your hair and your legs wrapped around him. Instead you grinned.

"Who said anything about needing a man?" Gabriel stared at you with his mouth opened and blinked a few times. That spiel usually worked on women. Actually it had done for hundreds of years. And yet here you were challenging him. Presenting a puzzle and making him work. Either that or you weren't interested him at all.

"Okay sweet cheeks, you win." He sighed in defeat. He waved his hand and conjured two bowls of delicious looking caramel ice cream. It had heaps of caramel sauce and fudge pieces scattered throughout. You gasped in delight.

"A treat." Gabriel said simply. "For being infinitely more fun than anyone else in this place." You laughed and took the bowl from him. You sunk the spoon into the rich cream and raised it to your mouth. You lips closed around the spoon and you pulled it away with your eyes closed. Gabriel watched you through lidded eyes and contemplated kissing you. The thought of the startling contrast between his hot mouth and your cold tongue was almost too tempting to pass on the opportunity.

But the archangel refrained. He had a feeling that if you wanted it you would ask. So he picked up his own spoon and started eating the yummy dessert.

"What's your favourite movie?" You asked between mouthfuls. You watched him as he seemed to take immeasurable amounts of pleasure from rolling the cold ice cream around his tongue and down his gullet. He looked at you with his head tipped to the side. He removed the spoon from his mouth and held it in the air like the constructor of an orchestra.

"What makes you think archangels have time to watch tv?" He asked. You grinned at him, lying down onto your stomach with your feet in the air.

"I just have the feeling you do. Cas watches Netflix after all." Gabriel grinned, his eyes looking to the floor, and you felt your insides go warm despite the ice cream.

"Touché Madam. I don't know. Probably Willy Wonka, the original Willy Wonka. Or maybe Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." You smiled as you finished off the last of your ice cream. Of course he had chosen Willy Wonka. You were surprised at his choice in the old musical however.

"Why the musical?" You queried. Gabriel shrugged.

"They just all seem so happy, and talented. It's a feel good movie. What about you?" Gabriel asked, sending the two empty bowls back to wherever they came from. You stretched, deliciously full and comfortable.

"I'd have to say either Braveheart or Miracle on 34th Street." You said with a sigh. Gabriel rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Braveheart? Really? You couldn't have picked something a little more original?" You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Seriously, who would have guessed that the surly Scot likes a film about Scotland." Gabriel nudged you with his boot and you glared at him.

"It's a really good film!" You said in your defence. "Okay, it's about as far away from factual as the Star Wars trilogy, but it's still a good film!" Gabriel was still chuckling.

"And Miracle on 34th street what's that one?" You fiddled with your hair feeling silly all of a sudden.

"It's a Christmas film, every year my mum and I would put the Christmas decorations up on the first weekend of December and on the Sunday night we'd sit down and watch Miracle on 34th Street." You said with a nostalgic smile. Gabriel had stopped laughing and was looking at you softly.

"Well, young Wallace." You laughed at his new nickname for you. "I think that's lovely. Remind me at Christmas time and I'll make sure you have a copy." His amber eyes met yours.

"Favourite Song?" he asked. And so it went on, talking about your favourite things and laughing at some of the ludicrous things he was saying. Like he loved Germany but hated France.

"I just don't like tiny cups of coffee!" He exclaimed. His favourite accent was the Australian (secretly it was your soft Scottish brogue but he wasn't letting on), but he couldn't stand the Cockney accent.

"The Mary Poppins film is my worst nightmare." He said with a shudder. You talked and talked with him until eventually you mumbled.

"Am I really your favourite human?" Gabriel looked at you in surprise. You had taken your hair out of its bun and it was falling across your face and down your back. Your head was resting on you arms and your pretty eyes were closed shut. Your breathing was deep and slow. The archangel could tell you were nearly asleep.

"Of course you are Y/N." He murmured. You remained with your eyes closed falling deeper into a sound sleep. "You are the most perfect thing my father ever created and if I'm thankful for one thing it's for you." The archangel smiled down at you and reached over to gently smooth your hair back from your face. He clicked his fingers and you were in your own bed, in warm pyjamas, still fast asleep. He watched you move in your sleep and bury your face into your pillow.

"Goodnight cupcake." He whispered as he leaned down to softly press a kiss to your forehead. You smiled and sighed in your sleep as he walked out of your room.


	12. Air Guitar and Killing Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've taken so long to update - my Granny had a pretty serious heart attack so things have been kind of hectic here! But I got there eventually :) Love xx

It was a Wednesday. You were up early. Earlier than either of the boys and Bobby. Your hair was tied up into a high ponytail that swung behind you if you walked quickly. You were wearing faded blue jeans and a simple olive green top. It complimented your E/C eyes. You plaid shirt was dark purple and far too big for you. Dean hadn’t wanted it because it was too small. Yet it still fell off your shoulders in an alluring way.   
When Gabriel found you, it was on the porch, holding a mug of coffee to your chest. You adored the early morn in hush. When the sun had not quite had time to warm the Earth and was simply providing a hazy sort of morning light. Everything was still. Mist was rising up from the ground like it was breathing. Gabriel watched you take a deep breath, your cold hands tightening around the mug, and lift your coffee to you lips.   
It was the day of your hunt. You were nervous, he could tell. But you had a quiet strength about you. A silent stoic force that seemed to exist only in mothers and soldiers. He admired you for it.   
“Morning sugar” he said softly so he didn’t startle you. It didn’t work. You gasped in surprise, spun on your heel and threw the remainder of your coffee over him.  
“Holy Shit!” You exclaimed. “Gabriel, do not sneak up on me you muppet.” You swore under your breath and glared at the archangel. Your glare quickly transformed into giggles as Gabriel was now covered in coffee, looking both startled and bemused. He swept his hand down his wet face.   
“I won’t make a habit of it, I can assure you.” He clicked his fingers and he was dry. You raised an eyebrow and motioned to your empty cup. Gabriel rolled his eyes and smirked at you.   
“Really?” You looked at him indignantly.  
“I’m not playing games handsome.” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows cheekily and sidled closer to you. His eyes glittered with curiosity   
“Handsome huh?” It was your turn to roll your eyes. You sighed and stamped your foot slightly.   
“Och, don’t let it go to your head, I call Crowley ‘sexy’ all of the time.” It wasn’t true but it achieved the desired result. Gabriel’s smirk quickly turned to a sneer.   
“Fine.” He snapped his fingers and your mug was once again full. You gratefully took a sip. This coffee was much nicer than the one you had originally made. It was sugary with a subtle hint of caramel. Your coffee had been Gabrielised.   
“Thank you.” You murmured. His golden eyes softened and stared into yours, capturing your undivided attention, your coffee was momentarily forgotten. Trust you to fall in love with a wickedly handsome archangel.   
“You nervous?” He asked. You shook your head.   
“I’m fine.” You lied. Gabriel looked at you doubtfully. It seemed to be a Winchester trait, putting on an act and saying you were fine.   
“You don’t have to do this you know, you don’t have to become a hunter, you can do anything you want.” You smiled softly and looked down at your cup, flattered by his concern.   
“I do.” You murmured. “Because this, all of this” you motioned around you with your free hand. “No matter how bizarre and completely un-normal it may be, feels right. Like it’s what I’m meant to do. I’m not made to be a bartender or sit at home playing Wife. I’m meant to do this. I can feel it.” Gabriel scoffed.   
“Take it from me cupcake, destiny is a load of crap. That’s why the Golden trio in there call themselves ‘Team Free Will’.” You laughed and shook your head, raising your eyes to meet his golden ones.   
“I want to do this Gabriel. For the first time in a long time I feel like I belong. Maybe I’m not meant to be a hunter like Sam and Dean, maybe I’ll suck. But I’m still going to try. Besides, it can’t be any worse than bartending in Scotland on a Saturday night.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows.   
“That bad huh?” You grinned.   
“You have no idea.”   
You both went inside where you had a healthy breakfast of cocopops, a digestive, and another coffee. Gabriel watched you curiously. You turned to him as you shovelled in a mouthful of cocopops.   
“One day” you said awkwardly. “One day I’ll do shit like drink green tea and eat granola. But not today.” A light seeped into his eyes as he watched you dance energetically to “Hot blooded” by Foreigner.   
No. He thought. You would never drink green tea and eat granola in the mornings. You were a sugar loving black coffee drinking piece of sunshine. And he didn’t want you to change that. You liked whiskey and shooting practise. You might look enviously at girls on Tumblr, doing their yoga and drinking tea, but he knew it wasn’t you. You were the first one to pluck sweets from him to get your sugar fix. He’d seen the way you savour chocolate. You wrinkled your nose whenever Sam made salad for dinner, preferring to shot liquor with Dean. You were made for living fast.   
You put your bowl into the sink as “All right now” came one. The archangel shook his head at how similar your music taste was to Deans.   
“Air Guitar with me!” You demanded. A grin spread over the angels face.   
“Already a step ahead of you sugar.” He clicked his fingers and two electric guitars appeared.   
“I can’t play guitar!” You protested. He motioned down to the one with tartan on it.   
“This one you can, try.” Apprehensively you took it from him and dragged your finger across the strings. You couldn’t believe it. It played in perfect harmony with the song. You could shred like Eddie Van Halen.   
“Holy fuck.” You breathed. Gabriel smiled as you threw the strap around your neck and started playing – loudly – along to the music. Seconds later he was doing exactly the same. 

Dean woke up to his alarm. “Highway to Hell”. God he loved ACDC. He rolled over to knock it off when he realised it wasn’t even playing.   
“What the Hell?” He groaned sleepily. The sound was coming from the kitchen. It sounded like Y/N had her iPod thing up full blast. He was surprised it could reach that level. Groaning again he got out of bed and stumbled towards the kitchen.   
“Y/N what the hell?” He roared. The music was deafening he closer he got. No way was this just her iPod. It sounded like she had the actual band in there. Dean rounded came through the door. He stood for a moment trying to decide if this was reality or if he was dreaming. He watched in confusion as his sister and an Archangel of the Lord leapt around the kitchen with guitars. Dean’s frowned deepened when he realised they were both playing along really well. Flawlessly actually. He covered his ears.   
“Y/N WHAT THE HELL!?” He roared. You stopped dead in the middle of a particularly epic head bang routine. You stopped playing and looked up at your big brother. He was standing in the doorway in a tshirt and boxers and he looked pissed. Gabriel was still concentrating on his magnificent solo. You punch his arm.   
“Gabriel!” You hissed. Gabriel stopped what he was doing and looked at you in confusion. You motioned to the doorway with your eyes. Dean was glaring at you both.   
“Do you have ANY idea what time it is?” he demanded. You pressed your lips together. You had completely forgotten that everyone else was asleep.   
“And where the hell did you learn to play guitar so well?” He pretended to shout. A large smile passed over your lips.   
“It’s magic.” You explained. “You have to try it!” You gushed. You crossed the kitchen and thrust the guitar into his hands. You walked over to your iPod and swapped the music to Eagles of Death Metal. You looked at Dean and the guitar he held in his hand.   
“Try it!” You encouraged him. Just as you had he tried strumming the guitar. A smile broke out on his face.   
“Okay this is pretty freaking awesome!” He said as he started jamming away. He gave a very dramatic performance. Between him and Gabriel you weren’t sure who was putting more effort in.   
“I knew you’d like it!” You said.   
“WHAT?” He yelled over the sound of the guitar.   
“NEVERMIND” You shouted. Dean soon found himself on top of the table and Gabriel was on his knees during a particularly good riff. You watched Sam appear and take in the scene before him. The gentle giant shuffled over to where you were sat on the worktop.   
“Do I want to know?” He asked. You shook your head.   
“Probably not.” You replied swinging your legs back and forth. Sam poured himself a bowl of Muslie and chopped a banana into it.   
“You all set for your hunt?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders.   
“Yeah I guess so, it can’t be that hard if he can do it.” Sam smirked and looked to Dean. At that moment he certainly didn’t look like one of the best hunters in America. Sam looked at you carefully as you watched the two idiots play rockstar. He couldn’t tell if you were okay or not. You certainly looked fine, but that didn’t mean anything.   
“Well once they’ve stopped messing around we can call Crowley and get set to go.” He said. You nodded and smiled.   
“Sounds good to me.” But inside the nerves were starting to build. You had to concentrate on breathing normally. Your hands had started to sweat and you could feel your stomach rolling in anticipation.   
Breathe. You told yourself. Everything will be just fine if you breathe. It was only a wee bogle. All you had to do was chop its head off. Surely it couldn’t be that hard. But you were nervous all the same. You wanted to prove yourself efficient. That you didn’t need the boys to baby you. That you could independently take care of yourself. That Gabriel wouldn’t see you as a weak human. But mostly to prove to yourself that you did actually belong here.   
An hour later the boys were ready and Bobby was making coffee.   
“Well I guess we should try calling the King of the Darkness.” Dean said with a sigh. He began walking around collecting items. You leaned into Sam.   
“What’s he doing?” You said under your breath. Sam looked at you with a frown.  
“He’s going to summon Crowley.” He began describing each item to you and it’s purpose. You rolled your eyes.   
“Nerds.” You muttered and pulled out your phone. Both Sam and Dean stopped and looked at you as you dialled. Bobby looked at you in confusion.  
“What are you doing?” Dean asked.   
“I’m going to summon Crowley.” You said in the same stage whisper that Sam had used. “You see this is a phone, you type in the persons number and it magically contacts them, even if they’re in hell.” Bobby nearly choked on his coffee from laughing as Sam looked at you in horror.   
“Wait, you have Crowley’s personal number?” You looked from him to Dean.  
“Uh, yeah, so?”   
“So?” Dean cried. “That would be a lot easier than summoning him every time we need to speak! He’s never offered us his number!” You looked at him pointedly.   
“Well, did you ask?” You said. Dean was about to reply but you heard the line cut in. You held up your hand for silence. Dean looked extremely put out as he looked to Sam for support. Bobby was still struggling to control his laughter.  
“Darling” you heard the voice purr in your ear. “I was hoping to hear from you soon, is this social or are you going to sort out my Boggart problem?” You smirked.   
“It’s all business Crowley, If you could get your highness ass to the bunker it would be much appreciated.” You said.   
“But Princess, I’m already here.” A gravelly voice said from the hallway. The four of you turned to watch Crowley put his phone away and hold his arms out expectantly.   
“Well? Are you just going to stand there gaping like fish or are we going to get to work?” He asked.   
“How come you’ve never given us your number?” Dean demanded. Crowley looked at Dean, his eyes looking your brother up and down.   
“To put it simply squirrel, your sister is prettier than you.” Dean clenched his jaw and looked at the Demon dangerously.   
“Crowley I swear to God –“ The King of Hell turned to look at you and he shrugged.   
“I don’t think big bro likes it that he’s not the prettiest anymore.” You hid your smirk behind your hand and dared a glance at Dean. He looked furious. Sam looked completely fed up with the whole affair.   
“Let’s just do this so we don’t have to have him hanging around anymore.” Sam said. Crowley pouted and looked at Sam.   
“Moose, you’ve hurt my feelings, really – I thought you enjoyed my company.”   
“No one enjoys your company Crowley”. Bobby growled. Crowley glared at him.   
“Shut it sugar lips.” Bobby snarled and took a mouthful of coffee.   
“Well I actually don’t mind you hanging around. It’s nice that someone around here has a good taste in whiskey” You said dryly. Crowley looked at the boys smugly.   
“That’s why she has my number.” 

Half an hour later you were sat in the back of Baby outside of Crowley’s home. God you loved this car. You would never tell Dean but you had fallen in love with the car and treasured it almost as much as he did. Dean killed the engine. He turned to face you as you stared up at the house apprehensively. It was more of a gothic mansion. It practically screamed horror movie.  
“Listen to me Y/N. When we go in here Sammy and me are gonna be right with you. Cas is floating around somewhere. You’ve got this. You can kick ass. Trust me you’re gonna do just fine.” He smiled at you and gave you the thumbs up. His green eyes sparkled and you couldn’t help but smile back. Sam turned around as well.   
“If he can do it, you can do it.” He said with a wink. Dean frowned and turned to glare at Sam. You laughed. You all got out of the car and gravitated towards the boot. Dean propped it open with the shotgun and started rifling through.   
“Gun.” He thrust one at you, you checked it was loaded and the safety was on before tucking it down the back of your jeans.   
“Knife.” More like machete. You thought and you put that in the holder Sam had given you.   
“Spare gun.” You took the smaller one, did your checks and put it in the small pocket inside your jacket. The metal felt cold against your chest. You watched as the boys pulled out two shotguns.   
“Salt.” Sam said. “Just in case.” Of course. Going into the King of Hells house would require shotguns and salt. Demons could attack at any moment. Weirdly enough you weren’t even concerned about that.   
Dean slammed the boot.   
“You ready?” He asked. You nodded and pulled your gun from behind you. You flicked off the safety.   
“I’m ready.”   
The three of you walked up to the house and you felt a chill wash over you and the big building cast you all in shadow. You wondered if Crowley actually liked living here or if it was all an act to fit with the “King” persona.   
Your blood was starting to beat more quickly as the excitement and nerves began building. Crowley opened the door as you started up the steps.   
“Welcome to my humble abode.” His voice boomed.   
“Creepy abode more like.” Dean said under his breath. Crowley glared at him.   
“Can it Squirrel.” You and Sam sighed in unison.   
“Can you not?” You asked. You turned your gaze to Crowley. “Where’s your Bogle?” Crowley frowned and stared at you.   
“How should I know, they’ve invisible, ask your filthy God.” You rolled your eyes.   
“Insults normally draw it out right? As does calling it name. Well, call its name your Majesty.” Crowley’s stare turned into a sulky glare.   
“Oi!” He roared, making you jump and the boys flinch slightly. They raised their guns protectively.   
“LISTEN TO ME YOU HACKIT HOWLIN SCABBY WEE BASTARD SHOW YOURSELF!” You realised he was calling on the Bogle but Sam and Dean looked at each other in confusion.   
“Care to repeat that?” Sam asked. They didn’t understand Scots. You looked over your shoulder.   
“Hackit Howlin Scabby wee Bastard is Crowley’s name for his Bogle. It means ugly smelly disgusting little asshole.” You explained quietly. Sam made an “O” face and nodded. Dean raised his eyebrows.   
“Scottish people are an angry sort aint they.” You smirked and turned to Crowley who was looking toward the ceiling and listening intently.   
“He’s coming down the stairs princess, good luck” He said with a wink. And then he disappeared. You took a deep breath and faced the stairs. Sure enough you could hear very faint footsteps.   
“Ready boys?” You asked.   
“We are right behind you Y/N.” Sammy said his eyes fixed to the bottom of the stairs.   
“Just remember that this thing will turn into your worst fear and then try to kill you.” You muttered. As if anyone needed reminding. Slowly you listened to the padding of feet walking down the stairs. One. Two. Three. Four. You heart beat was racing more than twice as fast and you held your breath in anticipation. You saw a pair of dirty feet and long legs that were covered in mud. What was once a white dress. Sam and Dean looked in confusion as you stared at a very dead but very real Katie. The Bogle tipped it’s head to the side.   
“You left me. And you didn’t come to my funeral. Not much of a friend.” You mouth went dry in horror and you felt light headed.   
It’s not real. You told yourself.   
“Fuck off.” You snarled and squeezed the trigger. The shot hit the Bogle square in the chest and it shrieked before transforming into Sam and Dean. It would have been quite comical if they weren’t looking at you with such disgust.   
“You’re pathetic.” Bogle Sam spat.   
“We hate that we have to look care of you and can’t wait to get rid of you.” Bogle Dean hissed. You growled and fired another two shots. The Bogle took longer trying to transform this time. Wounded slightly. You hoped to weaken it enough with gunfire so that you could take its head off without too much resistance. It flickered and transformed into various shapes before taking the shape of a very familiar Archangel. He smirked and took a step closer to you. Your breathing hitched.   
“The little girl has a lot of fears and anxieties doesn’t she? I’m just not sure which one to pick. Terrible friend, pathetic sister, unwanted and unloved. How could I ever want you? Look at you.” You couldn’t stop listening to him. Seeing something that looked and sounded so much like Gabriel saying those things…   
You stared into his eyes. They were all wrong. Gabriels eyes were the colour of whiskey in firelight. This thing that was pretending to be Gabriel had missed out that key element. You gritted your teeth and clenched your jaw.   
“Why. Don’t You. Just. Piss. Off.” You punctuated each word with a gun shot. The thing flickered and fell to the ground. Before it had even hit the ground, you tossed your gun down, strode over to it and pulled out your knife. You put your knee in its back and grasped the bogle by the chin, pulling it’s head back. You smiled as you stared into it’s expressionless eyes.   
“Goodnight you wee sleekit, cow’rin tim’rous beastie.” You murmured as you drew the blade sharply across its throat. The Bogle slumped to the floor. Dark blood pooled across the ground. It was unlikely Crowley would care. You looked over to the boys, the blade held limply in your hand and your chest heaving. Dean was grinning broadly. Sam looked concerned as ever.   
“That’s a girl!” Dean clapped his hands. “You’re a natural Y/N.” You felt pride and also disgust battle against each other in your stomach. Yes, you had killed the thing. But you had also enjoyed killing the damn thing.   
“It appears, my dear that you have the same aptitude for this business that your brothers do. But Robert Burns, really?” Crowley murmured from behind you. You turned to face him and he smirked at you.   
“I suppose a thank you is in order darling.” His dark grey eyes bore into yours as he grinned.   
“A drop of the good stuff would be grand right about now Crowley.” You said, praying that a few drams would remove the sting from what had just happened.   
“There’s a bottle waiting for you on your bedside table.” He said, his familiar deep voice putting you at ease. He grasped your hand and raised your knuckles before pressing a kiss to them.   
“Thank you mademoiselle.” He said before disappearing again. You walked over to Sam and Dean who both threw their arms around you.   
“You did awesome!” Dean exclaimed, patting you heartily on the back.   
“Let’s get you home.” Sam said gently smiling down at you.   
Home. You thought.   
“That sounds like a plan.” You replied happily.


	13. Shots and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! New chapter, longer chapter :) Lot's of Gabriel, and plenty of the others as well. Drinking, swearing - the general angsty fluffy stuff ;) Love xx

Dean pulled the Impala to a stop outside the bunker and you breathed a sigh of relief to be home. He turned to look at you.

"You did really good Y/N, you're gonna make a great hunter." You felt your cheeks heat up with pride. Sam smiled at his brother. Even though dad had never complimented or praised him, Dean made sure that you knew you had done well. Sam turned to look at you as well.

"As your first hunt went brilliant, I think a few drinks at the bar are in order?" He looked between his big brother and little sister. Both of their faces lit up with excitement.

"Hell yes!" They both chorused. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Alcoholism is the fourth highest cause of preventable death in the US you know." He said sternly. You rolled your eyes.

"Sammy, relax, I'm Scottish." He frowned and looked at you warily.

"What does that have to do with anything?" You raised your eyebrows and grinned.

"I'm practically an expert!" You exclaimed as you got out of the car. Sam looked to Dean. He shrugged.

"You heard the woman Sammy, besides, it's unlikely any of us will live long enough for it to matter." Dean winked and followed you into the bunker leaving Sam in the car. He looked to the sky.

"Really? You're giving me two alcoholics with questionable taste in music, with a couple of wayward angels, and the King of Demons to deal with?" When he received no reply Sam sighed heavily and hauled himself out of the car. He glanced up in surprise to find you leaning against the doorframe smiling at him.

"This alcoholic with questionable music taste would like to say thankyou, and that we're leaving in an hour so get your skates on." You winked up at him and disappeared back inside. You met Dean in the hallway who had a beer in his hand. You glanced at the bottle and raised an eyebrow.

"Starting early are we?" Dean shrugged.

"Might as well, I was gonna ask the feather brigade if they wanted to come, maybe you could text your best pal Crowley and we could make it a real party." His green eyes met yours and he saw the excitement grow at the prospect of a night out. He felt bad keeping you cooped up in the bunker for weeks at a time but there was little he could do about it. A night out was something you all needed. You stared at him questioningly.

"Can angels and demons even get drunk?" Dean smirked.

"Crowley sure as hell can, Cas and Gabriel can too, if they drink enough." A large smile crossed over your face as you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

"I'll call Crowley." You said as you walked away. Sam came up behind you as you walked away and looked to Dean in confusion.

"She's gonna invite Crowley to our little bar session." Dean explained. Sam sighed.

"I hope to God they don't get together." His face contorted into an expression of disgust. Dean tipped up his bottle of beer.

"I don't think it's Crowley she's got the hots for." He said, staring after you. Sam pretended to frown in confusion, knowing for a fact it wasn't Crowley you had the hots for.

"Really? Why's that?" Dean looked at Sam like he was stupid.

"Come on man, you were there, what did the Bogle-Boggart-whatever that thing was; what did it turn into?" Sam looked like he was thinking.

"Her dead bestie, us, and then Gabriel."

"Exactly! Okay, her little friend is understandable, and us – although we need to address that fact. But why would it turn into Gabriel if she didn't have feelings for that son of a bitch?" Sam nodded in understanding while Dean rolled his eyes.

"This is why I'm the smart one Sammy." He said before making his way to his room. Sam Winchester stood in the hallway and looked towards the heavens for the second time in five minutes.

"Really?" he murmured before walking to the kitchen to find a beer.

You sighed in content and pulled the towel tightly around your body. Hot showers were one of your favourite things, and your body soap left you smelling sweet. You briefly examined yourself in the mirror. Your skin was more tanned and freckled than it ever had been – you were still paler than normal. But your skin looked fresh and clean. Your eyebrows desperately needed done and you hated the way your teeth looked. But all in all it wasn't the worse you'd ever felt. You opened the bathroom door and crept down the hallway, hoping to make it to your room without meeting anyone.

"Well howdy sugar." You stopped in your tracks and cringed, holding the towel tightly. Of anyone it had to be fucking Gabriel. You turned to face him, a crimson blush setting your face on fire.

"Gabriel." You said, your eyes not meeting his. His amber eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed from your inner thigh down your smooth legs. The smell of whatever soap you had used flooded his senses – it reminded him of strawberry bon bons. He found the towel you were wearing to be the most offending thing in the Universe and fought the urge to rip it into a hundred pieces.

"Heard the hunt went well." He murmured, transferring his gaze to stare at the water droplets resting on your eyelashes. Your E/C irises lifted to meet his and you smiled broadly.

"Better than expected! Has Dean spoken to you?" Gabriel frowned and shook his head, what did that douche want with him?

"Drinks, at the bar, in about forty minutes." His smile reached his eyes and you found yourself smiling back. He did have a rather nice smile.

"Drinks, at the bar, in about forty minutes." He repeated. "See you there." You waggled your fingers at him and made your way to your room.

45 minutes later and you were ready to go. Sam and Dean had been calling on you impatiently for the past 8 of those.

"What the hell is taking you so long?" Dean shouted. "We all know what you look like from first thing in the morning to last thing at night. Chuck on a pair of jeans and lets go!" You rolled your eyes as you walked towards them.

"Perfection, dearest brothers, takes time." You said as you appeared in front of them. Sam and Dean looked at you in surprise.

"In the least creepy way possible, you scrub up good sis." Dean said. You were wearing a backless black top and figure hugging bootcut jeans. Your black heeled boots gave you an extra sway to your hips. Your hair was straightened and hung around your face perfectly. You had smoky eyes and a dark red lipstick that was enough to change your usually soft outward appearance into a completely different person. You flashed your brothers a smile.

"Are we going to do shots or what?"

Dean and Sam were the first to walk into the bar. You followed them through the doors and were welcomed by the first pub you'd been in since leaving Scotland. It was dark, it smelled of beer and sweat, old folk songs were playing from an old dukebox in the corner. You were thrilled. Castiel, Gabriel and Crowley were sitting at a table looking like the strangest bunch of misfits you had seen. They were deep in conversation and didn't see you until you walked up to the table.

"Boys." You purred. All three of them looked up; and you were satisfied by their reactions. You looked good and you knew it. Crowley's eyes darkened and he gave you a lustful grin.

"Well well, if it isn't the hunter of the hour." He slid you a glass of whiskey and tipped his in your direction.

"Cheers darling." You picked up your glass and tilted it back to him before taking a sip. The whiskey felt familiar and you relaxed under its burn. Castiel stared at you through his baby blue and cleared his throat.

"You look different Y/N." You arched an eyebrow curiously.

"Is that so Cas?" You stared at him and watched him grow uncomfortable under your gaze.

"Good different." He stated, a slight frown forming.

"And there was me thinking you were gay for my brother." You winked. He cleared his throat as the Demon and Archangel snickered.

"He's at the bar by the way." You nodded over your shoulder to where Dean was standing. Castiel's eyes snapped to where Dean was and you saw them soften, his pupils grew wider. You smiled happily and glanced to Gabriel. He was staring at you like he'd never seen you before.

"Problem feathers?" You asked. You're outfit and the whiskey made you feel bold. It made you feel sexy. And for the first time, gave you the confidence to flirt with the object of your desires. His mouth dropped open a little as he began to stutter a reply. You grinned and knocked back the rest of your drink.

"Thought not." You took your glass and sauntered over to your brothers. You could feel his whiskey gaze on you as you added a little more swing to your hips. You joined Sam and Dean.

"There isn't a guy in here who isn't looking at you." Dean growled. You looked up at him in surprise.

"Did it ever occur to you that I'm good looking?" You asked. He stared down at you, clearly unamused.

"I don't like it, they're looking at you like, like-"

"Like you would look at a woman?" You offered. Sam stifled his laughter.

"Don't worry Dean, I can take care of myself. Besides, I have two big brothers, two angels and the King of Hell on my side." Dean sighed and looked over your head at Sam.

"That's who I'm worried about." He grumbled. You motioned to the bartender for two whiskeys and re-joined the table with Sam and Dean. You gave one to Crowley and sat back, letting the feel of the bar wash over you.

Sam cleared his throat.

"I know I speak for all of us when I say I'm really glad you came to America with us Y/N. I never really thought about having a little sister, and I didn't know I wanted one until you came along. And, even though you spend as long as Dean in the shower, and drink more tea than I thought possible; life wouldn't be the same without you. You're going to make one hell of a hunter." You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and hot tears prick at your eyes. You looked down at your drink, your hair falling in front of your face.

"I'm not really one for speeches and Sammy summed it up pretty well, but I wanted to say a few things as well." You looked up at your eldest brother. He was leaning back in his chair and the usual teasing look he gave you was nowhere to be seen.

"Like Sammy I never thought about having a sister. And when I found out she liked ACDC, shoots whiskey and can fire a gun like John Wayne, I was more than happy. I was pretty fucking ecstatic. Our lives would be shittier without you, you have made the bunker better – in your own little violent Scottish way. And I would sure as shit gank any motherfucker who came between me and your brownies." Dean lifted his beer bottle in your direction and you realised what this was about. Your brothers were making sure that you knew you were wanted. That the Bogle's imitations of them were false. You swallowed the lump in your throat and lifted your glass at them both, ignoring the tear that had started to make tracks down your face.

"Here's to family, no matter how weird and fucked up we are." You said softly, looking around you. Everyone raised their glasses in salute.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Crowley murmured. Everyone laughed as you nudged the man in the suit and looked round happily at your weird little family. Bobby had elected to stay at home, saying that someone needed to be sober when you all rolled in at God knows what hour. You had a feeling you were going to need him.

An hour later and you and Crowley were trying to convince Dean to hunt the Loch Ness monster.

"There's no such thing." He said. You were all several shots down, Crowley and the angels were doing five shots to your one. Just to make it fair. You knew you had downed at least seven so that made their total somewhat inhuman. The bartenders where, understandably, watching over you all warily.

"I'm telling you there is!" You insisted. Crowley nodded enthusiastically.

"Listen squirrel, if the big bad beastie in the Loch was famous when I was around, and it's still famous now – it makes sense to assume there's something there." The demon was gesturing wildly with his glass. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Or perhaps it's like Unicorns, non-existent."

"Unicorns exist!" You cried. "The national animal of Scotland is…" You drumrolled on the table. "A Unicorn!" Dean groaned in frustration.

"Why am I not freaking surprised." Your gaze drifted over his shoulder to the bar and you felt your stomach drop. Your good mood disappeared faster than your New Years resolutions and you fought the sudden urge to walk out.

"Hey Dean." You asked quietly.

"Yo" Dean said, looking at you. You weren't looking at him but your expression was weird. Perhaps those last Baby Guinness shots had been a mistake.

"What do you do when you're trying to sleep with a woman?" You asked. Your brother frowned. That was weird. He shrugged.

"Talk to her, make her laugh, buy her a drink. With this face I don't really have to try." He winked at you and lifted his beer to his lips. When your eyes met his he saw the faint glimmer of tears before you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. Dean frowned and turned in his seat, his eyes scanning the bar. Something wasn't right. His eyes rested on the Trickster turned Archangel who was sitting at the bar. Gabriel was chatting to the barmaid, both of them giggling like schoolgirls, and she was leaning towards him in a very suggestive manner. Dean took a swig of his beer before standing up.

"May I enquire as to what you're going to do squirrel?" Crowley asked innocently.

"I'm going to stick my boot so far up that douche's ass he's going to taste leather for eternity." Dean replied before storming towards Gabriel. Crowley raised his eyebrows and sighed.

"How very poetic."

Dean walked past Sam and Cas on his way and grabbed his brother.

"Dean! Hey! What's going on?" Sam frowned. He had just about gotten Cas to tell him how he felt about Dean.

"Y/N is crying in the ladies because of this feathery prick." Sam looked down at Dean in surprise. He knew Dean cared, but to happily fist fight an Archangel? That was next level big brother. But the Sam looked up towards Gabriel and saw why Dean was so pissed off. Sam had been studying Gabriel and thought that the Archangel probably had a crush on you too. He didn't know if he was pleased about that, but it would make you happy. And here he was, in the middle of the bar, clearly trying to get into the barmaids pants.

"What a sleeze." Sam growled. Both brothers approached the Archangels back and grabbed him by the shoulders. They easily hoisted him off the seat and towards the door.

"We'll continue this later." He called to the barmaid. Once outside the brothers dropped him to the ground.

"What is your freaking problem you pair of lumbering, inbred, potatoes?" Gabriel shouted. Sam and Dean crossed their arms and looked down at him. Gabriel crossed his arms and frowned.

"Look now we all look scary. Do you wanna tell me what's wrong yet?" Dean opened his mouth to speak but Sam got there first.

"Do you like Y/N?" Gabriel's mouth grew slack as he stared up at Sam.

"How did you know?" He asked. He blushed red and rubbed the back of his neck.

"So this is why you guys are pissed. Look, I wasn't going to hurt her, or even tell her! It's just a crush, it'll go away. I just really like her." Dean opened his mouth but once again Sam beat him to it.

"Then why were you chatting up the barmaid." Gabriel's eyebrows drew together and he looked at the brothers doubtfully.

"What, just cause I have a crush on your baby sister I have to act celibate until the end of days? Come on."

"Am I allowed to speak now?" Dean asked Sam. Sam looked down to the ground apologetically. Dean turned to Gabriel.

"Listen, douchebag, maybe you should go and talk to her instead to chatting up other girls." Gabriel frowned and looked doubtfully between the two brothers.

"Why?" Dean sighed in frustration.

"Just do it okay?" Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Fine, but you have to talk to Cas." It was Deans turn to look confused, and Sam noticed a pink tinge grow on his cheeks.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Gabriel raised his eyebrows and looked at Sam.

"Um, Archangel." He said gesturing to himself. "I can hear all those funny little thoughts you have." Dean was definitely blushing now.

"Fine." He snapped.

"Fine." Gabriel replied.

"Children." Sam muttered under his breath.

Meanwhile you had resumed you seat next to Crowley and Cas where you preceded to do another two shots. Crowley and Cas happily joined you in doing ten each. You had been a bartender long enough to know that this was going to get messy pretty soon. Crowley had started to slouch and Castiel had a glazed look that you knew well.

"Are you okay princess?" Crowley asked you. You nodded.

"Better than okay." You replied. "I'm starting to get drunk." Castiel started to giggle.

"Alcohol is making me feel something funny. Not like the time I drank the liquor store. But sort of, fuzzy." You swiftly covered your mouth with your hands so Cas couldn't see your grin. The Angel was tipsy, he had a dreamy sort of smile on his face, and was attempting to locate the straw with his mouth. And failing.

"Cas, don't you think it's about time you spoke to Dean?" You asked innocently. Cas's bleary eyes found yours and he looked surprised.

"I speak to Dean all of the time." He told you. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"She means, are you going to tell the tartan clad idiot that you're in love with him?" Castiel's eyes went wide and he shook his head vigorously.

"I couldn't! He would hate me, and then I would have nothing." You stared into the swirl of azure and cobalt, he was in the same boat as you. Too scared to do anything.

"You're an angel right?" You asked. He nodded.

"You're a heavenly, powerful, almost indestructible, badass motherfucker right?" Castiel looked slightly confused.

"I don't recall fucking any moth-"

"It's an expression Cas." You interrupted. "My point is, you shouldn't be afraid to tell him. You've literally got the power to blow his mind. So go and tell him!" Cas frowned a little as he contemplated your words.

"Yeah, well, I've seen the way you look at Gabriel." He looked at you pointedly, sucking from his Appletini.

"Oooh, the tables have turned darling." Crowley grinned. He was enjoying this far too much.

"That's different." You said quietly. Castiel sighed heavily and crossed his arms.

"How? How is that any different?" Cas and Crowley were both looking at you expectantly.

"Because he's an Archangel, who loves beautiful girls – who look nothing like me, and I'm a shitty human." You hissed under your breath.

"Well if you're sure, go and pull someone else." Castiel said, he was starting to slur your words.

"What?" You asked, confusion on your face. Why would you want to do that? You'd never really been one to pull random guys in bars. Castiel grinned.

"My brother gets very jealous, if he sees you chatting up some other vessel, he'll flip out. If he doesn't care, then you'll know!" Castiel looked very happy with his plan. Crowley lifted his head from where it was resting on his arm.

"It's not a bad idea. Go for it." He urged. Maybe they were right. You had felt pretty damn pissed seeing Gabriel chatting up the barmaid. You looked around you dubiously. There were several men in here looking at you. You saw one who would be ideal. The over confident, self-loving, pretentious type.

"Fine." You growled. You stood up and made your way towards the man. The lecherous grin on his face told you everything you needed to know.

"Well hello sweetheart. Can I buy you a drink?" You smiled and bit your lip.

"That would be lovely thankyou." The man raised his eyebrows.

"Irish huh? That's pretty exotic." You gritted your teeth slightly.

"I'm from Scotland actually." He snapped his fingers to motion the bartender over. You wanted to punch him in the mouth for that move, but resisted.

"I'll have a Jack Daniels and an alchopop for the little lady." The bartender, who knew you had been drinking whiskey looked at you doubtfully. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. She nodded sympathetically. You only had to stay here until Gabriel reappeared. The guy turned to you again.

"So what brings you here from Ireland?" You smiled patiently.

"It's Scotland."

"Oh shit! Sorry, I always wanted to visit London." You closed your eyes and sighed. This was so not worth it. You were about to excuse yourself and go back to Cas and Crowley when you felt a hand on your elbow.

"Y/N, can I talk to you?" You turned to face Gabriel, for once the mirth and twinkle in his eye were missing. His usual caramel breath smelled faintly of alcohol. You felt your heartbeat speed up.

"Of course." You murmured.

"Wait a minute buddy, I just bought the lady a drink so wait your goddamn turn." Gabriels eyes turned hard as he glared at the man.

"Shut your mouth."

"She doesn't want to talk to you anyway. Look at you, you're short and ugly. Pretty girls need big good looking guys." He laughed.

"She speaks to who she wants. She doesn't fucking need any man. And she doesn't drink fucking alchopops." You seethed. You grabbed Gabriels hand and pulled him outside. You sank down onto a bench and held your head in your hands.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol or Gabriel but you couldn't think straight. Having a crush on him and having him around all of the time was impossible. You wanted to scream, to cry, to run away. You really wanted your mum.

"Y/N" Gabriel said softly. You lifted your head to see him sitting across from you. He looked serious, and unsure, but he was smiling.

"How you doing kiddo?" God you hated that nickname.

"Please don't call me that." You whispered. Gabriel frowned. He hadn't meant to offend you.

"I don't get it." He said, exasperated. "One minute, It's like we're best friends. And the next, I'm not even sure you like me."

"Just because I don't like the name kiddo?" He shook his head, his golden brown hair falling forwards slightly.

"It's not just that. You avoid me at the bunker, then you're in my room eating ice cream. We make cookies and coffee, and then you go and talk to the biggest prick in the bar." He stood up and dragged his fingers through his hair. He leaned over the table and looked you straight in the eye.

"I don't understand you."

"Why do you even care?" You snapped. "You flounce around like you own the place, messing with people's heads. And you can't say anything – you were clearly flirting with the barmaid." Gabriel slammed his palm down on the table, splintering the wood. You stood up, your chest heaving, you were breathing heavily.

"Why did you do that?" You hissed.

"I didn't mean to!" Gabriel examined his hand.

"You broke the table. What has the table ever done? It was just there, being a perfectly good table. And you broke it. You didn't mean to, but that doesn't matter, it's still broken." You weren't even sure if you were talking about the table any more. You really needed to sober up. Your hand reached into your pocket for your cigarettes and you lit one.

"I hate that you smoke." Gabriel murmured. You looked at him in shock. His glittering brown gold eyes found yours.

"I hate how stubborn you can be. And how quickly you can lose your temper. I hate how insecure you are even though you are surrounded by people who adore you. I hate that you're choosing this shitty life over a normal one. And I hate how I can't seem to figure out what the hell is going on inside your head." You tore your gaze away from him and focused on a point in the distance. You took a drag from you cigarette, holding back your tears. Gabriel looked at you. Your hard gaze was focused on nothing. Your jaw was tightly clenched.

Nice work, he thought. You're meant to be telling her how you feel and instead make out like you hate her.

"Fuck sake." He muttered and sat down on the broken bench with his back to you.

"Y/N I can't do this. I'm not good at this."

"I'm not asking you to do anything." You said quietly. He exhaled and looked to the sky.

"Y/N" He turned to look at you. You let your eyes meet his. He saw the glittering of tears in your eyes and was filled with self-loathing.

"Y/N I don't hate any of those things. I don't hate anything about you. I think you're one of the most perfect things created. That's why I'm so messed up." Your mouth popped open in shock. He thought you were perfect. Your cigarette dropped to the floor, completely forgotten.

"What do you mean?" You asked, your heart hammering away in your chest.

"Do I have to spell it out?" He asked you. You were about to reply when the door of the bar burst open and a crowd of rowdy blokes fell out. Gabriel sighed and dragged his hand though his hair. He suddenly grabbed your hand and clicked his fingers. You weren't prepared for the sudden chill that hit you.

You looked around you in shock, the cold sobering you up plenty. You were standing next to a very familiar Loch in Scotland. The wind was blowing harshly and you breathed deeply. You looked towards Gabriel who was approaching you. He had a heavy-looking tartan blanket in his arms. He drew the blanket around your shivering shoulders and stared into your eyes. You pulled the blanket tighter and leaned towards him, his body radiating heat, you couldn't look away from his eyes. His fingertips lightly stroked down your cheek. But his eyes were sad.

"I like you Y/N." He spoke softly. You sucked in breath as you felt your chest explode.

"Why do you look so sad?" You whispered. He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You're like fruit in the Garden of Eden. Untouchable." Gabriel replied.

"Say's who?" You asked. The only sound was the water lapping at the shore of the Loch. The only thing missing was the skirl of pipes.

"Says me. I'm not going to endanger you Y/N. I'm not going to stand between you and a happy life. Balthazar was right, it's a bad idea." The Angel dropped his gaze to the floor. Happiness and sadness welled up inside your chest. You didn't care if it was a bad idea. You were happier with this life than you had ever been. And you were happier with him than you had ever been. You placed a cool hand on his cheek and stretched up slightly to place a kiss on his cheek.

"I like bad idea's." You murmured. "They make the best stories." There was, undeniably, a rosy hue crossing his cheeks. You noticed that the tips of his ears were also turning red.

"And for what it's worth, I like you to." The smile that shone from Gabriels face was the brightest thing you had ever seen.


End file.
